Burnt Offerings
by AndyJ4077
Summary: Summary: Ivan Vorpatril escapes a sticky romantic situation by going to Jacksons Whole on a mission to rescue some clones, which Baron Bharaputra is raising as part of a plot against the Barrayaran Emperor. (Hopefully this is quite different from LMB's new book, which is now on my Christmas list!)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 (of 22)**

Ivan had been kept waiting in the palace museum, nervously looking at the old exhibits and going over his recent mission to Quaddie space. He turned away from the scalp of mad emperor Yuri. How long would Gregor make him wait? It wasn't meeting with Emperor as such that made him so nervous - he'd been around the Emperor of Barrayar throughout his childhood. Although a few years older, Gregor had played with Ivan, Miles and Elena, though he must have been bored much of the time.

The reason for Ivan's nerves was his suspicion that this was to be a dressing down for the public relations nightmare that was Rebecca Toscane. Yes, those Toscanes. Relatives of Empress Laisa. It was all very well for Rebecca to be grateful for him saving her life - him and his squadron of escort ships, on his last mission - but she'd become too clingy.

Behind his right ear a quiet voice informed him, "The Emperor will see you now, Lord Vorpatril."

Old Kevi always moved so quietly - you'd hardly notice him if you didn't know who he worked for. Directly. It was as good as a summons in the Emperor's own Voice.

He followed Kevi down the hall and though the unobtrusive door, labeled 'No Admittance', up a narrow staircase, through another door and into a comfortable, if sparsely furnished office.

Two men were sitting on leather sofas, facing across a coffee table, both men were tall, of medium build with dark hair, the one with his back to them was in uniform, and Ivan recognised him even before he turned his greying head. General Guy Allegre, chief of Imperial Security. The other man was, of course the Emperor, Gregor Vorbarra, ruler of three planets and commander in chief of all the empire's armed forces - including Ivan, who stopped just inside the door, stood at attention, and tried for a level voice, "Sire. How may I serve you?"

Hopefully Guy Allegre wasn't here to arrest him. That would be a service matter, not security - unless Rebecca had more clout than he imagined.

"Thank you Kevi," the armsman closed the door, and the Emperor stared at Ivan for a few seconds before continuing, "Alright Ivan, you can stop sweating, it's not about Rebecca Toscane - though how you contrived to fall into her orbit..." The emperor considered who he was talking to, "Never mind."

Ivan sighed in relief, not about last night then, so maybe it was a follow on mission, Guy Allegre's presence made that likely.

"Though if Laisa hadn't explained Rebecca's history to me..." Gregor smirked, "It seems you are not her first victim, although that still leaves me with an embarrassing social issue to resolve. Luckily I can sic your mother onto her, and maybe aunt Cordelia if Rebecca's still here when she returns," then Gregor released the issue from further attention, "Have a seat Captain Vorpatril, and prepare to be briefed by General Allegre. A very interesting situation has arisen on Jackson's Whole, which demands our immediate and very negative attention. Go ahead General."

That got Ivan's attention. Rebecca Toscane evaporated from his mind between breaths. Jacksons Whole? Shouldn't Miles be in on this, or even Lord Mark?

"This is a somewhat delicate and necessarily secret situation Captain," began Allegre, "and after his previous visits we absolutely don't want to send Count Vorkosigan. However appropriate it might be to have an Imperial Auditor represent our interests it would also be too official. It would also alert them - he's just too recognisable. Luckily we have one of our best people already on site. She's under deep cover in Bharaputra's secret clone creche, the one where he's keeping Emperor Gregor's two clones."

"He's what? Is he insane? He must know we'll vaporise him as soon as we found out!"

Gregor smiled, but left Allegre to respond, "Yes and no. Specifically yes we believe his mind has become unbalanced, and no the Emperor does not wish to vaporise his... clone brothers."

"Gregor? Sire! You can't seriously be thinking of leaving them alive! I mean sorry, but the scope for disastrous plots is just mind boggling!"

"Do you know, that was exactly the sentiment the General voiced when he brought the situation to my attention. However, I do credit him for allowing Me the choice. I have considered the evidence and the options, and upon consideration I have decided that we will rescue them."

"But Sire! Getting them out of Bharaputra's, after what happened with Miles and Mark?"

"Yes. Lord Mark has been much on my mind. What, after all would have happened if we had discovered the Komarran plot when he was still in Bharaputra's clone creche? We have considered that scenario, but we have a few options that weren't available at that time and I intend that we shall make use of them. The clones will be extracted, brought back here in secrecy and genetically modified so that they will no longer be identical to me."

"What? You can do that?"

"General Allegre, continue."

"Hm. A certain immigrant geneticist in our employ claims that altering genetic markers can make these clones easily distinguishable from the Emperor, irreversible genetic changes. We'll also make them physically different, so that they can't pose as him, even without genetic testing. Needless to say they will not have a choice in the matter."

"I should think not! Even so, it's a risky approach. You've given it consideration - dismissed all the alternatives?"

"Yes Captain," Gregor reassured him with emphasis, "there are political as well as moral reasons why I have made this decision. Do you have any other comments?"

"I only meant to be helpful, Sire. So did you want me to join the extraction team? How will we get past Baron Fell? Any trouble getting in will alert Bharaputra."

"That's where it gets a little complicated," Allegre stated in a flat voice.

Ivan couldn't quite work out the General's view of the Emperor's decision, "Seems like any complications would reduce our chances..."

"Not necessarily," said Gregor, ending any further argument. Both officers put aside their misgivings, and General Allegre explained the plan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Ivan led his ImpSec team off the shuttle and aboard the cruiser, _Kanzian_. The second officer, Commander Whitall, led them up to the captain's cabin, where they were admitted immediately.

Ivan introduced his team, "Lieutenants Crozier and Teller," his open hand indicating the round faced Crozier and the thinner, painfully serious Teller, both standing at strict attention in their black Imperial Security uniforms, and the older ImpSec noncoms, "Sergeants Werrel and Hutton," swarthy, blue chinned Hutton had to shave twice a day, Ivan would wager, and Werrel who was compact, wiry and famous amongst service enthusiasts as three time winner of the annual inter-service unarmed combat challenge.

The _Kanzian's_ captain, and fleet commander was someone Ivan had heard of but never met. Commodore Ernest Vortigan had been shepherding Komarran trade fleets for the last fifteen years, but in his youth he had taken command of a cruiser during the war of Hegen Hub when their ship was hit by a Cetagandan missile, and later served in the third Cetagandan war, being decorated for bravery after defending the flagship against a very unexpected boarding party of Ghem Commandos. He was a respected officer, quite seasoned by current peaceful standards - about one tenth of Miles' battle experience, thought Ivan. But very few people knew the real details of Miles' military career, it being almost entirely on ImpSec covert ops with the Dendarii mercenaries. Now it looked like Ivan would have the same problem - no public medals for this one. On the plus side, he'd be well away from Rebecca Toscane!

"My understanding is that you will be the ground commander, liaising with the local troops, and that my role is simply a reserve or threat should things go wrong. Whether you are successful or not I am charged with getting you and these clones back here 'at all costs', or as a last resort level the whole area and withdraw. Does that sum it up Captain?"

"Very succinctly sir. We do have a couple of additional personnel to..."

"Our embassy on Escobar has the Doctor and the mercenary scheduled to meet us in orbit. Is there anything else I need to know before we leave?"

"No sir, I think everything else will be in your orders," including an instruction to scan all cabins and briefing rooms for surveillance devices, considering Bharaputra's penchant for hiring or blackmailing unscrupulous locals.

"Then go and settle in. Commander Whitall will show you your quarters, let him know if you need anything. Dismissed."

The five of them turned smartly and left. Whitall guided them to their quarters. Ivan had his own small cabin in officer country, and the four ImpSec men were billeted in shared cabins, the lieutenants in one and the sergeants in another. Ivan told them to review Barons Fell and Bharaputra specifically, and Jackson's Whole generally, during the voyage.

As Whitall accompanied him back to his own cabin Ivan asked, "What's the Commodore like? Have you been with him long?"

Whitall was a bland, round faced officer. Though clean and smart his uniform jacket seemed a bit strained at the seams.

"A bit old school. Likes things by the numbers right up until the action starts, when he get gets impressively streamlined - expects people to know what and why things are important in action and out. Smart, clean and shipshape normally, but whatever is most efficient and effective once things get real. The men might grumble now and then, but they respect him. A good leader. Real combat officer."

Ivan wondered if that was a dig at him personally, or just more generally at spit and polish officers, Vor or not, who had no real combat experience. Probably the latter, "I know what you mean, I had a little unpleasantness last tour - only pirates but they fought to the last."

"Yeah, I heard. What are those new patrol ships really like Captain? I've seen the specs, but they don't tell you everything - are they well built?"

"Oh yeah! A real neat design by Vorbretten, built at Vorsmythe shipyards, so they're good build quality. Extra fifty percent range on imploder lances and thirty five on dedicated shield strength to go with it. A useful combination the pirates didn't expect. Good legs too, in action, when you're not tied to lumbering merchant ships. I shouldn't complain though - we'd all be stuck between Komarr and Sergyar otherwise, apart from the occasional diplomatic escorts. So, are you looking forward to visiting Jackson's Whole?"

They'd already reached his cabin, but Whitall considered before answering, "I think that rather depends on our reception, don't you?"

"That should be better once we get the specialist on board eh?" Whitall tried not to look blank, by which Ivan concluded he had not yet been briefed on the details.

"Contact me though the ship net if you need anything, all the usual stuff's in there. I'll see you later, Captain."

Before entering his own cabin, Ivan watched Whitall head up the corridor and into a cabin two forward from his own. Inside his tiny cabin Ivan checked the general information and personal settings on the ship's net, during which he was warned of the ship's departure and soon felt the change in background hum as it broke orbit, headed for the first jump point to Komarr.

He got a surprisingly good nights sleep and saw the ImpSec lieutenants and Whitall in the officers mess at breakfast. They were adopting second shift, which was likely to be on duty for the E.T.A. at Fell Station, as long as the specialists kept to the timetable at Escobar.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The merchant fleet had left two days earlier with the rest of the escort ships, _Kanzian_ caught up just beyond Sergyar, and led them through the jumps to Escobar without incident.

Their specialists were ferried over from the jump point station, boarded the _Kanzian_ and were met by Ivan and his ImpSec men. Doctor Rowan Durona and her dark, cerebral good looks, reminded him of someone and it took several minutes during the walk from the airlock before he realised that it was Mile's wife Ekatarin. She and the Dendarii Captain Kimura, were left to settle in while the fleet waited for the merchant ships to finish transferring goods and funds. Komarran trade fleets passed though often, and had good relations with the Escobaran authorities and local traders. The transfers were executed efficiently and they left on time. Ivan wondered how long that luck would last.

He'd taken the precaution of having the ImpSec men guard the specialist's cabin doors, and escort them anywhere they were allowed to go, such as meals or exercise.

Ivan them,"Try and get to know the specialists too. This isn't just practice - if anything happens to either of them, especially the doctor, the whole operation would be in doubt. Let me know if you need anything."

He allowed her an hour before going forward to Rowan's cabin and buzzing her door.

She opened it and looked into his eyes and with a slight smile she invited him in.

"Thank you, I wanted to go over the security arrangements," he entered the tiny cabin. She sat on the bunk and waved for him to take the station chair.

"With the merchant fleet, we'll be en-route for about two weeks."

"Yes, it took nearly that long when we first came to Escobar. Do you know Lord Mark, Captain?"

"Yes. In fact we're sort of, that is we're cousins. I know he helped to fund your research centre on Escobar."

"Yes, and he continues to fund the life extension research - which is... You know why I'm here?"

"Of course. I will be the main liaison between you, Baron Fell and the other Barrayarans. I know the history - Mark's run in with Ryoval and his escape to your centre when you still worked for Baron Fell. He helped negotiate your escape and to finance the setting up of your research centre. I know he has a 'Thing' about Bharaputra and the whole clone transplant operation, and I don't blame him - it is despicable," she nodded, "So I understand that's why you've been working with him to find an alternative and that you've had some success. Not a cure for death, but a viable life extension treatment - still experimental and very expensive, but Gregor, the Emperor, said it could already extend life for ten or twenty years, depending on various factors. How does that work out for Baron Fell, he's over seventy?"

"Seventy eight, and not in good health. He had already sent us some samples himself, before your imperial security made contact with us," Ivan nodded, "about the cerebral virus he was infected with, about two years ago we think."

"I was told something about it, we suspect..."

"Bharaputra? Yes, he was probably behind it, but it was Livia Nu, spelt N-U, an ex-mercenary who I understand may also have been the source of the tissue sample that the two clones were grown from."

"Nu? Ah, I think that's Commander Cavilo. Miles mentioned she used that name in Hegen Hub. She may have got a sample there - she commanded Randal's Rangers at the time."

"Yes, well she seems to have been a real schemer, but she met her match with Bharaputra, or they matched each other, because Baron Fell reports that Bharaputra has a similar cerebral tissue infection, courtesy of either Nu or his old partner Lotus."

"I thought..."

"She's dead, as is the Nu or Cavello. The story is there was some sort of... not exactly a love triangle, more a three sided power struggle with sex involved. He was the only survivor, but he suffered damage and probably won't live more than a year or so."

"Then Baron Fell..."

"A less damaging strain, as far as we can tell. We don't have a sample from Bharaputra, but there are reports of unstable behaviour. Although he might already have been unbalanced, because those clones must have been started years ago - a very risky strategy unless you expect to die soon anyway and want to settle old scores, don't expect to be around for the response."

"What else can you tell me about your treatments for Baron Fell?"

"Without getting technical, what I'll do is neutralise the virus. Then stem cell treatment to counteract senescence - which doesn't really make you younger, but it does revitalise any new cells - so this will give him the energy to take the main treatment."

"The er, fountain of youth?"

"Hardly! Not yet, it's a step towards a possible solution. In fact it's not the most promising long term treatment, but it's the one that has progressed farthest, and the best suited to Fell's condition. I can't say more about it for obvious reasons."

"Secret? Commercial copyright and all that?"

"True. Also Lilly decided it should be a parallel development strategy, different approaches with independent liaison and limited shared knowledge. So even if Fell or Bharaputra caught me and used fast-penta, I couldn't tell them enough to reproduce even this anti-aging treatment.

"Good. That makes sense from a security standpoint, though it sounds like it'd make your work more difficult."

"It does, but ever since Lotus sold out security was on Lilly's mind. Not that any of us would! Most of us are happy enough with one lifetime - well, I am. Chrys and a couple of older ones are ready to try this treatment themselves even though it might block them from longer term treatments that won't be ready for some years."

"Mark must be happy with your progress, to have a usable result after what, nine years?"

"Less if you exclude the lab set up, before we could start any research. We lost so much time moving, and technical notes and samples!" she sighed, "So five or six years of real development, less than that for some of the other treatments. And it's more than any other labs have come up with, so far. Even this treatment's very expensive right now, but once we've perfected it the price will come down - not that it'll ever be easily affordable for most people..."

"However much it costs it's got to be better than those clone transplants! I did some reading on your competitors, and it seems like you've spectacular progress by comparison..."

She smirked conspiratorially, "Thanks to Lord Mark again - between him and Enqiue, once he could visit us, we got some unique insights to... Actually, I'd better not say - no offence, but if it got out those competitors would start to catch up with us. Well, we've got a good head start, but I'd better not tempt fate!"

"I understand, and no offence taken, believe me - I probably wouldn't understand anyway - I mostly don't when those two talk genetics, or business! So, what do you think your permanent treatment will be able to do for Baron Fell?"

"That's still debatable. I think there'll be a balance between longer life and proper continuity. Some of the effects of more radical treatment involve memory and personality loss - obvious really if you go to the extent of including cerebral regeneration. If you don't regenerate the brain, then you'll eventually get senility. There are a lot of tricky aspects with other long term cell regeneration as well - increased susceptibility to cancer and other regenerative disorders. The treatment we're trading for Baron Fell's help is likely the best medium term treatment with fewest side effects, definitely the best for someone already his age and in bad health."

"You think he'll trust you to administer it?"

"With suitable oversight and threats, yes."

"You seem quite fatalistic about that."

"I lived on Jackson's Whole most of my life, so it still seems like the normal way to do things. In fact we've had some legal difficulties where we've played fast and loose with Escobar's medical development laws. Luckily Lord Mark has a very sharp lawyer on retainer, which makes sense since he needs to protect his investment. He had problems sorting out the fallout after he rescued Enrique."

"Yeah, I know there was some trouble - I think Miles helped Mark straighten it out. Did you invest in the butter bug company?"

"Not personally, but he gave Lilly some shares later, after the terraforming work on Komarr and Sergyar began, by which time the share prices were already very high. Did you get involved?"

"Yes," Ivan beamed, "I think Mark still felt guilty, so he clued us in once he'd decided to hand it over to Marta to run - which was before the big public offering, so I got in early enough. I must admit that made Mark a lot more popular with his other relatives too!"

"Did it end up a family business?"

"In a sense. In the sense that nearly everyone related to him got a piece of the action and made a tidy profit, splitting and selling some shares or just reinvesting. Ah!" He savoured the memory.

"So yours is a rich family?"

"It wasn't, and Miles still spends a lot in the district, with Ekaterin's charities and such." Rowan just smiled, "Anyway, it would be best if you would keep to you cabin - but let me know if you want to go exploring," he looked around at the bulkheads, "It's a bit small I know so er, perhaps I could escort you to dinner occasionally?"

She smiled, "Yes, that would be nice. Don't worry about me getting bored, I'm used to virtually living in a small lab, though usually there'd be more company and - well a lot of it would be other Durona's so it would be nice to meet some new people - but this is business, so I was planning to catch up on technical reading anyway."

"Oh good. That you don't mind. Well, it's been a pleasure." He took her hand and after a momentary hesitation raised it to his lips for a fleeting dry touch. She smiled again - Barrayarans were so quaint!

Ivan made his way past his own cabin to Kimura's and pressed the buzzer. The door opened and they nodded to each other in lieu of salute, since Kimura was not in full uniform. Ivan was given the station chair, twin to that in Rowan's cabin.

"Well Captain Kimura, how are you settling in?"

The Dendarii officer smiled at the pleasantry, "Very well, thank you Captain Vorpatril."

"Good. Something we both share is that Bharaputra holds a grudge going back some years, for damage done to his interests. In the case of the Dendarii that's that raid of yours. Barrayar has been a target of his for almost as long, initially we believe that was on behalf of the Cetagandans, but he seems to have taken our responses personally. He's tried blackmail and infiltration in the past, so as a precaution I will be posting a guard on your door and Doctor Durona's, and I wanted to make you aware that this is for your protection. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep to your cabin as much as possible too, but if you do need to go anywhere about the ship then make sure the guard commander or myself are informed ahead of time, so we can ensure we have proper cover. I've just told Dr Durona the same thing, though perhaps we can meet now and then for lunch or dinner, to break up the journey a bit. Otherwise, please keep to your cabin until we finish the mission. Any questions?"

"How is Admiral Naismith?"

Ivan's jaw quivered nervously, "I er... don't believe I know the name."

"Come on Captain, he's your cousin, Miles Naismith Vorkosigan."

Ivan shook his head, and practiced best his bewildered look, "Miles? But who's this Admiral Naismith?"

Kimura chuckled, "Do you really expect me to believe you've never studied the war of Hegen Hub? The only major Barrayaran conflict where you had allies against Cetaganda? I've read you're standard texts on the subject, and they go into some detail about the Dendarii actions, and even mention Admiral Naismith - though I grant you they're alittle vague, and there aren't any pictures."

Ivan muttered, "Oh, that Naismith, I er, thought you meant someone else..."

"Hah hah! I was at the Felician metals refinery twenty odd years ago when you arrived, then left along with the admiral and Quinn."

"I don't know what you're talking about I..."

"I know you were there sir, I've got proof. You should know that I've spent the last three years in Dendarii intelligence - and tracing who the admiral really was has been a sort of hobby of mine. Naturally, once I made the connection with Admiral Aral Vorkosigan, and started watching the few vids available it became obvious. The first time I saw a picture of Miles Vorkosigan I was sure. I know he claims there's another clone apart from Lord Mark, but when I compared the Admiral's mysterious disappearances to Vorkosigan's recorded appearances on Barrayar or elsewhere in the empire, there was too much coincidence to be believable. You may as well admit it - it can't matter now. Besides, I've heard that the Cetagandan's know too."

"I can't say, I mean I was doing my basic service training when you say I was in - where was it, Felicia?"

"Tau Verde," Kimura smiled indulgently.

"Wherever. Anyway, it's an interesting theory but..."

"I'm not going to cooperate if I can't trust you. And if you don't trust me, or Admiral Quinn's judgement of me, then why am I here?"

"You can't refuse to... You, or Quinn have a contract, we'll sue you!"

"Well, that would be unfortunate; think of the publicity for a start."

"The publicity would hurt the Dendarii more than us, you'd be publicly compromising client confidentiality, which wouldn't do your future income much good, I'd think."

"OK sir: look I'll agree not to keep asking if you'll agree to tell me after the mission, to confirm it's him. Just to satisfy my own curiosity, eh? By my reckoning there's already half a dozen Dendarii or ex-Dendarii who know who he is, so it's not like it's secret, is it?"

"So you'll fulfil your contract? That's good of you!" Ivan complained while he tried to decide, maybe he could bump it on to some ImpSec higher-up?

"If I survive the mission sir, I'll be retiring - I was about to anyway. The Dendarii were the best of the best once Naismith took them over at Hegen Hub. Bragging rights are something to be proud of. I could get a place in any mercenary company and most planetary based forces with my resumé, but I've had enough. Pushed my luck to many times. Quinn's good, very good, but the contracts aren't what Naismith used to get us. So this is my last mission. In a way I'm glad it's Jackson's Whole. So once I retire I thought I'd go visit Barrayar, see those Dendarii mountains for myself. Maybe I'll just turn up on the doorstep and say hello to the Admiral - maybe he'd offer me a beer and chat about old times - what do you think sir?"

"I think you wouldn't get near Lord Auditor Vorkosigan is what I think."

"Right. We'll have to agree to differ on that one then?" Ivan grunted, "So when's the mission briefing, Captain?"

"Hm. There'll be a proper briefing before we reach the last wormhole jump. I'd like to go through your report of that last mission here before then though."

"Ready whenever you are Captain."

"I'll let you settle in first - get rested, review the old report and the other information in the files and we'll sit down and go through it tomorrow morning. Right?"

"Right sir. What time?"

"Start of second watch should be early enough, unless you think you need more time?"

"No, that's good for me. So will you come here or will my guard take me to a briefing room?"

"Me or a guard will take you to the briefing room - the Commodore will be there too."

"See you tomorrow then sir."

"Right. Get some rest Captain and I'll see you bright and early."

Ivan escaped through the door a little too quickly to seem quite calm. He breathed out in relief as he got back into his own cabin, collapsed on his bunk, closed his eyes and thought about the contrast between the two specialists. Kimura, sharp and prickly and Rowan Durona cool and interesting. Fascinating. Quite curvy really.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The fleet traversed the last, uninhabited system to the final wormhole jump into Jackson's Whole at a leisurely pace. The merchants taking time to double check their stock and expected negotiating positions; the military to meet for the last full briefing before they entered the system.

The briefing took place aboard the cruiser _Kanzian_, and included all the other escort ship captains. Ivan had scanned the service record of those he didn't already know, and was introduced to them by Vortigan. The last two he greeted happily, as they had been part of the squadron that comprised his previous command.

"Owen! Reynard! Good to see you again! Sorry I didn't get in touch earlier, but I've been up to my neck in mission planning," and hadn't wanted to answer any awkward questions. He shook their hands and they all took their places around the conference table as Vortigan began the presentation.

He brought up tactical plans of the target system, showing the jump point stations and expected ship deployments and firepower. Owen, Reynard and the other patrol ship captains paid close attention and made notes. They were holding their questions until they knew more of the ground mission's target.

Vortigan got as far as the rendezvous at Fell station and hesitated, before continuing, the technical plan of that station still displayed on the big screen.

"We have some confidential negotiating material which is we believe will ensure the wholehearted support of Georish Stauber, Baron Fell." He paused again, "That will be the first stumbling block - if Fell refuses then we will have to abort the planned mission and I will decide what other action to take. You patrol captains may have to supply two forms of defensive shielding or covering fire, depending on what I decide. Ideally I'd like to get the merchant ships away before I take any other action, so two or three of you will escort them at flank speed to the designated exit point and see them on their way, before returning if necessary to support remaining operations. We'll go through more specific deployment when we know Fell's response, but if he's against us then my bet is it'll be a shooting war, not just manoeuvring. More on why in a moment."

He looked around the table, Kimura and Doctor Durona were sat against the far wall, out of line of sight for the other captains, his eyes came to rest on Ivan. The other officers knew about the civilian specialists and ignored them, but Ivan occasionally glanced back to see how they were reacting, now decision time was approaching. He was reassured to see they were both equally cool and attentive. They seemed reassured by Ivan and the other officer's confidence in the Commodore.

Vortigan changed the display to a map of the planet and resumed, "Here on the north western continent, north of the main Bharaputra compound, is the site of the secret facility we will be raiding. Now gentlemen and Doctor," nodding to Rowan, "we come to the heart of the matter. Baron Bhraputra is terminally ill and wants revenge on Barrayar for something we did to him, indirectly sixteen years ago," he highlighted the main Bharaputra compound on the map, "Dendarii mercenaries raided his clone creche and liberated fifty clones that were nearing maturity, mostly as bodies for rich client's brain transplants. Needless to say his business suffered badly after that, as did his vanity."

The Commodore took a drink of water before resuming, "The Dendarii mission report explains the details, but in summary: the initial attack ran into difficulties, was pinned down and trapped in the clone creche. The Bharaputrans didn't want the clones hurt, so it was a temporary standoff. Then the Dendarii reinforcements arrived. A negotiated settlement got bogged down and the Dendarii reinforcements instigated a rather brilliant two pronged assault. One team extracted the original squad with the clones, while another team successfully abducted Baron Bharaputra. Captain Kimura here," the other officers turned when he pointed out Kimura, "lead the team that grabbed Bharaputra, which is why he is coming along. He has been through that main facility and might be able to recognise traps and defence mechanisms in the other site, and he has personally met Bharaputra." Kimura nodded calmly.

"Unfortunately the Dendarii admiral was killed in the raid, though his body was later recovered and revived," Ivan forbore to correct the more complicated train of events as they were not directly relevant, "Bharaputra blames his subsequent diminished position on that raid, as well he might, and holds a huge grudge."

He swallowed another mouthful of water before continuing, "Assassins were dispatched to kill the Dendarii admiral, or kill him more permanently, but they failed. Now comes our involvement and the wrinkle you may not know about Captain Kimura. Most of you will recognise the name of the Dendarii, even if you haven't studied their involvement in the war of Hegen Hub. It's taken from the name of a range of mountains in the Vorkosigan district on Barrayar. The reason being that the erstwhile admiral was a fan of both Admiral Aral Vorkosigan and General Pierre Vorkosigan of the Dendarii resistance," Ivan glanced at Kimura, who returned an extremely ironic look. Vortigan missed the exchange and continued, "What I can reveal now, because it's already known by Cetagandan intelligence, is that following their actions in the war of Hagan's Hub the Dendarii were taken on as an unofficial Barrayaran intelligence unit - which is why they organised the Dagoola IV escape and a few other missions. They were quite successful. So in a way Captain Kimura is a sort of irregular brother officer. Welcome home Captain Kimura - glad to have you aboard!"

Kimura gave Ivan a wry look, before nodding respectfully to Vortigan, "Thank you Commodore. Glad to be of service to the Imperium; do I get a pension?"

Vortigan laughed, "Not that I know of, but you can check with human resources when we get back."

Vortigan smiled at his officers around the table, "So why would Barrayar want to rescue fifty clones? We only wanted one of the clones. Unbeknownst to the Baron, one of the clones was part of an elaborate plot by some Komarran separatists to assassinate the then Regent, Count Aral Vorkosigan.

"The rescue of the other clones was a smoke screen to obscure the connection to Barrayar. The separatists were taken care of in a separate operation, and nothing more came of that plot - until now.

"Unfortunately Baron Bharaputra found the connection some years ago, along with some biological samples which are the basis for the very serious threat he now poses to the future of the empire."

That sharpened the other officers' attention.

"The main thrust of the mission is to capture or destroy that biological threat, secondary to which is eliminating Bharaputra himself. He will be the target of a secondary attack by Fell's troops, on the main complex here," he made the site flash on the map, "For personal reasons we think we can leave that to Baron Fell to oversee. Captain Vorpatril will lead our second team to the secret facility here," he highlighted the underground complex to the north, and a more detailed three dimensional plan of the facility with all it's levels came up on the screen. Well within a flat topped desert plateaux, the plan showed a square, multi-layered research complex, with a smaller staff residential section to the south.

"The target is three levels down in the main complex beneath this granite outcrop. The vehicle entrance," he highlighted it, "is the bottom of the eastern cliff face, a garage level, but it's too well defended - ground to air defences and heavy cannon around this gorge, for use against incoming vehicles or ground troops. The rock all around here is far too thick to blast through and the defences inside are formidable too."

He changed the view to the upper levels, seen from above, "They have some pedestrian exits, for their foot patrols on the plateaux," which he highlighted, along with the passages leading back to the main facility, "but again these narrow passages are protected with multi layered defences before they reach the actual facility."

"This facility is purely research - no outside visitors, and no daily commuting. All the staff live on site, but with their quarters off in this separate section," he highlighted the second block to the south, connected by a single corridor about ten metres long, joining through the southern stairwell at the sixth level down.

He swung the view to look directly down on the upper levels. One set of corridors ran around the outer walls and another two crossed north to south and east to west, making a sort of cross hairs effect at the central circular shaft. Around the central shaft ran a spiral ramp which connected the levels. There were two lifts and a flight of stairs centrally located on both north and the south boundary walls. The basement garage extended to the foot of the east cliff face with the entrance opening onto a short steep gorge leading to the hilly desert that surrounded the big outcrop.

"So the plan is to blast through the top two levels down to the third where the clones should be," the picture changed to show a neat round hole appear just south west of the central core, through the first two levels until it punctured the third level just outside the clone creche. "We expect the research and other civilian staff will be evacuated to the separate quarters," highlighted again to the south, "because their own guards will need them out of the way - which should reduce any collateral casualties. They'll probably move all of them to the top, family floors, to make any attempt on them an uphill struggle. The only problem is that they may remove our targets as well." He glanced at Ivan, "We have someone on site who has undertaken to prevent that from happening. That is one very obvious weak point in the plan - if they got the targets across to that dormitory section, it would be very hard to get to them. We'd have to bombard from orbit to destroy the whole dormitory section and occupants and then we would essentially have declared war."

Vortigan frowned unhappily, "Due to the odd dynamics of our own neighbouring systems in the wormhole nexus, and at this end the unique socio-political organisation of Jackson's Whole, we were unable to bring sufficient force along for a full scale assault. Even if we could have got a full fleet through the nexus, it's passage would have been noticed and given Bharaputra enough warning to escape and cover his tracks. Bringing more vessels, including a troop transport along would likewise have tipped our hand. Our ships," nodding around to the junior captains, "can protect the merchants from pirates, but they couldn't support us against the entire Jacksonian in-system defence force. So we have had to find a way to incorporate local orbital support and ground troops in the operation. Baron Fell is the main player in the Jackson's Whole security arena and we have something he desperately needs as well as some information we believe he will find quite compelling. Naturally this is all confidential - and does not leave this room, understood?"

The Barryaran officers responded, "Yes sir!" and the specialists nodded.

The Marine commander, Colonel Hammond spoke up, "Sir, How reliable are his men really? Are they just security guards for hire?"

"I believe they are quite well trained and led - Captain Kimura, would you agree?"

"Not bad. Not combat troops as such, but cool under fire and they will have some local knowledge. They will also have some back up. We were aided to some extent by Fell when we escaped after the raid - but more so through bartering Bharaputra as a ticket out."

"Quite," said Vortigan, "So it will be up to Fell's troops to deal with Bharaputra directly - kill or capture for local trial on charges related to Baron Fell. Our main mission is to secure our target at the underground base - extract or destroy it. Gentlemen, the orders to capture it in tact come directly and personally from the emperor himself. He knows every detail of the situation and I completely trust his judgement. I know I have been a little vague about the exact nature of the biological threat - there is a reason and I must ask you to trust our judgement on that, my own and the emperor's. Can I rely on you gentlemen?"

"Yes, Sir!" in unison. Even Ivan joined in. Kimura and Rowan did not.

Well, thought Ivan, that woke us up again.

"So. The overall plan is this. Merchant ships to the commercial station. Patrol ships standing off in the normal way for a less civilised destination. My ship docks at Fell station. Captain Vorpatril and Doctor Durona will go and negotiate with the Baron, which could take anything from an hour to a day or more, but we're expecting a couple of hours negotiation then a wait of a day or two before the action can start." Clearly this made the other captains uncomfortable and Vortigan addressed the unasked question, "A medical treatment is part of the negotiation and we expect Fell will at least want some of his own medics to check the details, and possibly for the treatment to start before he'll give us the go ahead. Once he does and his own troops are on line Captain Vorpatril will return to this ship and join the first team. Lieutenants Canis and Makarov will be our observers with the Fell team, and will confirm their success or otherwise. Fell's team will hit the main Bharaputra complex and capture or kill the Baron. The first team will have two observers, this time Fell's officers, they have their target and we have ours. We believe the targets are in the same area - I'll brief that team separately as the exact details are still being kept confidential. Once they have those targets acquired we will begin an ordered withdrawal."

He stopped and looked around the table again, catching his officer's eyes, "The rules of engagement for this operation are different than normal. In orbit we will be back up for the ground troops, but unless things start to go wrong that's all we will do - watch, support, deter and shield from any intervention. Fell will have the responsibility of keeping any other house troops out of the line of fire - if he fails to do so then I will order weapons free and nominate target classifications in the standard mode for a restricted operational environment." Nods from around the table, "Ground troops will use minimum reasonable force to get the job done - that doesn't mean pussy footing or holding back - just try not to kill innocent civilians or any unengaged house troops unless they are a potential imminent threat. Any questions on that?"

Hammond asked, "I haven't seen a proper threat estimate of the troops at the underground base - what do we know and what don't we know?"

"All we know is in the reports," Vortigan said unhappily, "The security force is relatively small but heavily armed. Bharaputra increased his security after the previous attack on the main facility. The last information is a force of about seventy at the research site. So you'll be outnumbered overall, but should be able to block some of them with demolition on the way in and coming back out." He paused for thought and looked around the table before continuing, "Also, you'll be fully armed and armoured when you land - whereas they'll be reacting to an unknown force, so they'll have to arm themselves properly and and suit up on the fly. Most of his troops will only have half armour. Does that put your mind at rest at all Captain?"

"To some extent sir, though speed will be the determining factor - if we get bogged down like the first Dendarii squad then we'll be at their mercy and I wouldn't expect any from them. No rules of engagement on the Jacksonian's side I think."

"Too true," muttered Kimura. Rowan smiled tightly.

Colonel Hammond finished with, "We'll make damn sure the shuttles are well protected though."

Vortigan continued, "Yes, our own fighters will provide close aerial support and the troop shuttles are hardened. Nevertheless, if the operation does fail, then we may still have to instigate the orbital bombardment. That is a last resort and would probably lead to a rift with Fell, which would complicate our withdrawal," there were worried faces around the table at the thought of that possibility. "So we have a fallback plan, documented, but we will not need it - because we will succeed. There are unavoidable weaknesses, but given the Jacksonian system's organisation and our own difficulty getting any larger force here in time, it's a good plan overall - so let's concentrate on making it a success. Captain Kimura, do you have anything to add at this point?"

Kimura stood up and looked around the table, "If things go according to plan then this operation should benefit from distraction at the main compound as they try to protect their Baron - the same as with our rescue of Green Squad. But if things go awry, then you'll have to adapt quickly. The Bharaputrans we met were decent troops for private security, not real combat troops but competent. They'll have heavier weapons than before, and they know the environment better than we do, so it's not going to be easy. Like Colonel Hammond says, speed is our friend, any delay is our enemy. That about sums it up."

"Thank you Captain Kimura. The route out following the raid, subject to any local problems, will be through Hegen Hub. Now, are there are any further questions?" He looked around the table, but no one spoke up, "No? Then the ship captains are dismissed, thank you gentlemen."

Owen and Reynard nodded to Ivan as they got up, and the ship captains filed out. When the door closed after them Vortigan spoke, "Won't you join us Captain Kimura, Doctor?"

The two outsiders moved to chairs at the table and the Commodore continued, "Colonel Hammond will outline the plan for the ground operation, then we'll have questions and discussion - Colonel?"

There were two reasons for the higher than normal rank of the Marine company commander: because of the important and difficult nature of the mission, and because senior officers needed experience and there wasn't much of it to be had! To balance this, most of the senior NCOs were very experienced.

Colonel Hammond opened up his operational file, and led them through the attack plan and extraction - as far as he could do from the information they had.

There were five squads each comprising of an officer, NCO and twelve marines, plus Ivan and his men.

Green squad would land first and clear any guards on the surface, with Blue squad backing them up and Orange squad protecting the shuttles and the landing zone.

Yellow squad were demolition - blasting through the outer shell of the facility to get inside the top level, side stepping any traps. Yellow squad would also protect their rear in case anything got past Green and Blue, including missile attacks, by maintaining a shield umbrella over the crater they made.

Red squad would be Ivan's support group for the snatch, led by a Major Samuels and Sergeant Pyrios. They would enter through the crater and make their way down to the third level to snatch the clones, then get back to the surface for extraction by the shuttles, then the rest of the troops would be withdrawn in reverse sequence. Naturally they planned to seal the upper exits to reduce any interference with their escape.

Vortigan thanked Hammond and dismissed him and Kimura, "Doctor Durona and Captain Vorpatril, please stay."

Once the door clicked shut Vortigan addressed the remaining pair, "Doctor Durona, do you have any questions from your side of things? Do you have everything you need, can our medics give you any help?"

"No, thank you Commodore. I believe I have everything I need, and Baron Fell will provide any medical assistance I require, in fact he will insist upon it."

"Will you need a security escort or body guard?"

"Thank you, but no. Any bodyguard would be a distraction and wouldn't be any real protection in Fell's own station. I have to trust him as, in the end he will have to trust me."

"Right. Captain Vorpatril, you will accompany the doctor for the initial negotiations - do you need anything else?"

"No sir, I'll be there mostly for support in the negotiations and as Doctor Durona says we'll have to trust Fell initially. After we've told him our information then I believe he'll cooperate for his own best interests and if there are any changes required to the plan then I'll let you know as soon as I can. Hourly communication checks and our standby code words should be enough to give you warning if there's a glitch," Ivan swallowed at the thought of that - a glitch would probably mean both he and Rowan were dead, more him than her since Fell might decide to try and force her medical cooperation and avoid a conflict with Bharaputra. That was the first hurdle to get over. He already hated the place, and they'd not even reached orbit!

Commodore Vortigan had invited Ivan onto the bridge to observe the entry into Jacksonian space, so that if there were any problems he'd be available to consult on a decision to proceed or abort, but there were no problems and the merchant commodore dealt with all the fees and administrative details himself. Vortigan had visited the system before and had all the weapons on lockdown within minutes, as soon as they were sure there was no imminent ambush at the wormhole exit. It wasn't much, but it was some reassurance that mission security had held so far. Naturally weapons lockdown was less restricted when action was expected. The Jacksonian inspectors had found the weapons disabled and the heavy weapon control modules were confiscated. This was a fairly recent but expected wrinkle, but one that was in use in several other political areas with nervous authorities. The Jacksonians scanned for but did not find the duplicate control modules.

The distance to Fell station reduced gradually until they got their laconic docking instructions. The merchant fleet diverged for docking at Dyne's commercial platform, with their escort of the smaller patrol ships, which took position to stand off the Dyne station until Vortigan had met and negotiated docking rights with Baron Fell. That was the cover story for them keeping their mobility. Their deterrent effect was severely limited without weapons, as far as the Jacksonians knew, but not unusual as military ships often didn't dock.

Vortigan made contact directly with Baron Fell.

"Commodore Vortigan, I am pleased to see you here. I have some knowledge of your career and it would be my pleasure to have you join me at today's reception in my quarters. It wasn't clear from your initial communication if you were interested in purchasing anything here or just wished to pay your respects? Either way you will be very welcome - will you be bringing your captain too?"

"Baron Fell, thank you but I will postpone a personal meeting for the time being - I would like to send my representative, Captain Vorpatril and Doctor Rowan Durona, whom I think you already know?"

The Baron's face froze showing an expectant half smile. The eyes focused so intensely they seemed to come out of the screen, "Yes, it would be my pleasure to see her again, and your officer, Vorpatril you said. I'll have them met at your airlock at fifteen hundred sharp. I look forward to meeting them both. Thank you Commodore." His face faded, eyes seeming to remain longer than the rest of the image.

"Hm," said Vortigan, "An intense man, Baron Fell. He recognised the Doctor's name and found it quite riveting - more so than I'd expected. Take care Vorpatril, he doesn't seem like someone who'd have much patience with distractions if they get in the way of what he wants."

"Yes sir, that is what I understand, but I think our information will prove equally riveting."

"Let's hope so. Our sensors indicate that the station has been considerably enhanced since my last visit, stronger than I understood from the intelligence reports."

"That could be to our advantage sir, if we keep him on side. At least he's not unstable like Bharaputra."

"No. Merely cold and calculating, if I read him correctly. A dubious ally at best. Keep in contact and let us know anything pertinent if you can."

"Yes sir. Now er..."

"Yes, make your preparations. Dismissed Captain." Ivan left the bridge and went to meet with the ImpSec men who would be accompanying him and Kimura down to the surface later, as there'd probably be little time for a confab once he'd returned from negotiating with Fell.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Are you nervous?" Ivan asked Rowan Durona as they walked towards the airlock chamber being used for docking to Fell station.

She frowned and glanced sideways at him, taking in the smart green undress uniform, was he mocking her? Ah, no, just externalising, "No. I have found that people elsewhere have a tendency to think they have more control than they actually do. People on Escobar have called us Duronas fatalistic, but we are just realistic. Just because there are so many laws out there in the rest of the galaxy that restrict what governments are allowed to do, people think a government can only do those things that are allowed. We Jacksonians at least know that people with power are happy to use it, which includes using it in ways that harm people - as long as it furthers their aims. We are not fatalists, we are realists, you are fantasists. If we were Betans and this were a Barrayaran station we were going to make some negotiation at, you'd be a lot more relaxed. Betans generally are anyway, but you know what I mean. If the situation was otherwise the same - we were negotiating to make a raid on a Komarran criminal's dome and for some reason that was something Barrayar might allow - you'd think that the risk wasn't there until you got to the surface, whereas I'd know that the Barrayarans could blow our ships out of space at any time they chose to, any time it became more expedient to make us disappear and deal with the whole thing internally. Maybe before the Escobar war, when you still had those secret police in charge?"

"The secret police as you call them were never in charge." He paused and thought through how it would be if they'd been about to negotiate with a powerful officer in Ezar's last days and cleared his throat, "Ahem, I take your point, but the old Barrayar wasn't representative of most of the galaxy either. They'd have told you to take a hike either because they'd deal with it internally and probably secretly, or because they supported whoever this criminal was. Jackson's Whole is a lot more chaotic."

"Chaos is natural. Order is another fantasy people have, outside Jackson's Whole."

They turned into the airlock chamber, shoulders bumping as they passed through the doorway and Ivan waved her ahead. Wait, maybe he should go first! Too late, he edged close behind ready to pull her back if there was any danger out in the dock.

They emerged and he saw that although there were a few workers hauling a loaded float bed across the dock chamber and a guard either side of the hatchway, there were no unexpected threats.

A House Fell guard captain waited for them a few metres away and stepped forward, smiling tightly at them, "Captain Vorpatril, Doctor Durona?" They nodded, "I will escort you to the Baron's quarters for the reception, if you'd follow me?"

"Thank you Captain, please lead on." said Rowan cooly.

They fell in behind him as he turned smartly and marched across to the far side of the open space and keyed a personnel hatch open, standing aside to let them through. Rowan stepped through, then Ivan and they waited for the Fell captain to close the hatch, then he led them off through a series of corridors.

Ivan picked up their conversation again, "I'd have thought you'd demand order at your research labs."

She looked at him with a slight patronising twitch of her lips, "Naturally the laboratories are an ordered environment, but they are under our control, unlike the world outside. Even so - the outside world can interfere." She raised her eyebrows and smirked. Ivan remembered that the last time she had been in orbit around the planet beneath them was when she and her clone siblings had been forced to leave without their technical records and samples - their research abruptly interfered with by real world chaos.

Ivan could sense the Fell captain listening, ready to report anything pertinent back to his superiors, so he let the conversation lapse. He needn't have bothered, because around the next turn was a wood faced hatchway with a looming guard in green silk uniform: one of the Baron's personal guard, dressed for the reception. The clothing was looser than the guard captains more traditional uniform, and looked like it was designed to allow for the sort of arm and leg movement used in hand to hand combat, though the man wore a holstered stunner and nerve disrupter on his belt too.

The captain waved them to a halt then stepped forward as the guard raised and spoke into his wrist com, "Captain Trammel and the Barrayarans are here," he listened to the response, unintelligible to the rest of them, "Right," he nodded to the guard captain and keyed the hatch open, then stood aside to let them pass inside.

The captain led them through a large reception chamber, where several other guests turned to watch as they were led across to another hatch, bracketed by large guards clad in the green silk uniforms who shifted sideways to let them through as the door opened automatically.

Ivan was looking around as he passed across the large reception area, with it's multiple levels and nooks, he spotted odd pairs in conversation and other guards wherever there was a hatch visible. There was also a transparent wall with a view of the glittering planet below, giving Ivan a moment of vertigo that made him snap his eyes away and focus on the hatch ahead to regain a more comfortable perspective.

On the other side of the hatch was a comfortable, roomy office with an eclectic mix of objet d'art securely displayed, fixed to plinths or bolted to the bulkheads behind thick plexiglass. The displays included some interesting antique weapons - Ivan recognised swords, cross bows, nun-chucks and throwing stars and some oriental armour on a stand in one corner. He was more surprised to see some ancient framed sheet music and an antique violin hanging on the far wall, where the Baron was seated behind a large wooden desk.

The Baron looked older and more frail than he had in the pictures and short video clips which had accompanied Ivan's briefing documents. The man stayed seated, though he made an abbreviated bow to Rowan, before dismissing the guard captain. Clearly he considered the coming conversation's confidential elements to be too delicate for even his trusted subordinates. He had either decided he could trust them or had some automated weapon covering the room.

"Doctor Durona," he nodded to her again, "I was very sorry to hear of Lily's passing, please pass on my sympathy to your clone siblings," she smiled and nodded acceptance in return, "Who is considered her successor now?"

"No one person as yet. There's a board of directors which mostly consists of the older clones. Chrys is the longevity research director and I am one of her deputies, so I sometimes sit in on the board meetings. We received your tissue samples and have a partial cure, as requested, and on instruction via Lord Mark I have also brought a tailored longevity treatment. I should caution you that this is a limited treatment, we're still working on a longer term solution but it is not likely to be available any time soon, and I should also say it will very probably not be compatible following this treatment."

"A partial cure?"

"The first treatment will stabilise your condition. Then a second stage to improve your health. At that point you will have to decide if you wish to take the third treatment to give some life extension - as I said the treatment available right now will make you incompatible for the other treatment being developed - but that is not likely to be available for several years."

"Then perhaps we can discuss the alternative longevity treatments later. I have been keeping up on your progress as well as I can from here. I am already aware that Lord Mark Vorkosigan is one of your major shareholders and backers of the longevity research program."

Ivan had been waiting for an opening, but the current exchange seemed to be headed straight to the point anyway, so he sat back and watched the byplay with interest.

Rowan answered, "So you know who Mark is really and therefore that there's a connection between him and the Barrayaran escort? Good, that saves time. Do you also know why and by whom Lord Mark was created?"

Fell's hand twitched as though to brush away a triviality, "Komarran separatists. Some plot to take the place of his progenitor and cause havoc on the Barrayaran home world while the Komarrans revolted? Idiotic nonsense - they're better off now than before they were annexed. So it's no coincidence that they transported you? More than just Mark's influence?" He glanced at Ivan and raised his eye brows questioningly, "What interest do you have in our domestic affairs?"

Ivan took a deep breath before answering, "We have information that Baron Bharaputra is going to try a similar ploy against us. He must have found out where Admiral Naismith went and decided to take retribution at this late date..."

The Baron's hand swatted away the diversion, "Miles Naismith Vorkosigan, now one of Emperor Gregor Vorbarra's Imperial Auditors, previously a covert agent of Imperial Security. Don't fence with me Captain. Now tell me, what was the real object of the initial attack, or was Ryoval always the final target? It couldn't have been Bharaputra or you've never have released him, even to get the admiral back."

Ivan began sweating. This intelligence stuff was too damn twisty for him! "There was no official target to Mark's raid - he was trying to free the clones because of some misplaced romantic or psychological need to be a hero. It's irrelevant to the current situation, except as background. The important thing now is that, for whatever reason, Bharaputra is after revenge on Miles or Barrayar for past actions which he's decided to take personally."

"He blames them for Cavilo as well. He made the mistake of thinking an enemy's enemy is automatically a friend. She made the mistake of underestimating him, so did Lotus."

Rowan interjected, "So he killed Lotus?"

"Luigi or Cavilo. They were so busy setting each against the other that they forgot they were targets as well as manipulators. I won't make that mistake," he frowned, "Again."

Rowan smiled tightly, "Yes Baron, how was it that you let her get close enough to infect you? Chrys was curious about that."

"There was a lapse in my intelligence information, a mistake I won't repeat. I was not at the time aware that Bharaputra's new representative, Livia Nu, was really Cavilo. She brought a regular tissue sample from my clone, for confirmation of health. I was distracted - she was an attractive and interesting woman after all."

Ivan was curious, "Did you leave it to Luigi Bharaputra sir, or did you take your own revenge?"

"I wouldn't have given him the satisfaction of confirming her success. She was already dead by the time I confirmed that she was the vector. She only touched my hand, it was that simple. There must have been a delivery method which included protection for herself, though the virus was tailored to me, and certainly she had Lotus design it. She hardly needed a virus - the woman was a walking poison!" He calmed himself again, pressed his shaking hands hard down on the desks surface for a moment before smiling at Rowan, "I don't know which part of her plots Luigi discovered, but he killed her himself. I had an eye witness account of his state of mind when they came to collect her body. He was still too slow to realise what she'd done with Lotus though. They had an argument when she confronted him about having an affair with Cavilo and he lost his temper. Perhaps the infection was already affecting him mentally, but he should have known she wouldn't trust him like that."

"Like what?" slipped out before Ivan could control his mouth.

The Baron smiled in evident admiration, "She must have liked Cavilo's plan for me, even if she hated the woman. Jealous of her youth and Luigi's fascination perhaps, in any case she'd already adapted the virus to Luigi and she or Cavilo administered it. She was feeding him a separately administered blocking agent, to stop it taking hold, but once she was dead the blocking would have disappeared without trace. Bharaputra can't have realised until it was too late, or couldn't find the blocker in time. Maybe still hasn't, and his other geneticists haven't been able to find an effective treatment. So he's dying and he can't even have a brain transplant, so he's in the same position as me in that respect. Not as satisfying as I'd once hoped."

"Which is where I come in," stated Rowan.

"Yes. And I am not under the impression that this treatment is for old times sake - you haven't become nostalgic to that extent I trust?" He gritted his teeth and waited to hear the price.

"Lily held no grudge against you for trying to keep control of us. She respected your position and that you upheld the Deal, even when you could have made things more difficult. We are still Jacksonian's at heart, even if we're glad to be away from here. We have our reasons for helping you and cooperating with the Barrayarans, so if you benefit we are happy for that to."

"Good to know. Carry on."

"The price we want is high, but fair, and we consider that you will find it in your own interests too, though it will cause difficulties in the short term." She waited for his reaction.

"Continue," he leaned back, stony faced, his hands steepled - not giving anything away.

"I have the treatment here, on the ship, to halt the degenerative effects on your brain. It is tailored only to you, so it wouldn't actually be any use to Bharaputra, we have no interest in developing a cure for him and we think it's too late in any case. I brought enough that a small sample can be extracted for your own lab to test before I administer it. It will take about a day to incorporate into your cell structures and you will not notice any difference immediately - except that your symptoms will not get any worse. Once the take up is confirmed, by your own lab?"

"Yes," tightly.

"I can then administer the next stage of the tailored process, the regenerative cell treatment."

"Ah?" The Baron breathed, "The life extension..."

"Not yet," She gave a tiny shake of her head, but smiled as she continued, "It is just a step to bind in tailored stem cells to help your own cell regeneration to be more accurate, so that cell regeneration senescence is reduced to earlier levels. That treatment will have a noticeable effect, you will begin to feel more alert, more energetic as your body cells are naturally replaced with newer, healthier cells."

The Baron now smiled and nodded in some satisfaction.

"The final stage will have to wait until later, as the body must settle to a more stable state."

"How long?"

This was Ivan's cue, "That will depend on your cooperation Baron. Barrayar has found you helpful in the past, indirectly, and we'd be happy to renew the alliance, unofficially of course - we wouldn't want to cause you any lasting difficulties with the other Jacksonian Houses."

The Baron frowned unhappily, but waved Ivan to continue - this was the Deal and Fell understood that there would always be a price for the Durona's help, and he'd expected it to be conditional on something.

"As we already touched on earlier, Bharaputra is preparing to launch some sort of attack on Barrayar or Barrayaran interests and we can't allow that to go ahead. If it were possible to get a fleet through to here, it would not be in time to prevent him launching his attack. We'd prefer to stop it before it starts."

"Barrayaran ships don't have a reasonable chance of getting more than a ship or two out past their gateway neighbours - your implied threat is not credible Captain - please do not insult my intelligence or intelligence assets," stated the Baron coldly.

"Barrayar has other assets if we failed to get our own navy through, but as you say I have no need to be insulting, and what I will propose is a mutually beneficial alliance." Ivan could feel sweat running down his chest and gripped the arm of his seat to stop his hands unconsciously moving to rub at his tunic front, "We propose that you at least allow us to remove or destroy the weapons that Bharaputra has been developing, in return for which we will undertake to do you a small favour in return. This is not strictly necessary on our part you understand, and is more in the nature of a good will gesture."

Fell waved his hand, "Explain."

"We need to get into his secure facility in the northern mountains..."

"I know the place."

"... and we would prefer to have clear skies for our drop and recovery. We would also like you to take the opportunity to make a raid on Bharaputra's main facility because we believe that you will want to make an example of him and would prefer your own troops to be the instrument you use for that."

"I have good reason to take revenge, but there are equally good reasons not to - what exactly is it that you think will force my hand - please get to the point Captain."

"Yes, well there is some other information which you may not yet be aware of."

Fell glared.

"Ahem, our information, which tallies with what the Duronas know," Rowan nodded once, "is that in addition to colluding with Cavilo's infecting you Bharaputra took the precaution of introducing a subtle genetic change into your clone. In fact he did this at the time of its inception. So he has been watching you make concessions for the past eight or nine years, secure in the knowledge that when the clone is ready, if you decided to risk a transplant, he could wring further concessions. He would eventually give you custody so your own people - the one's he knows you've been training, to perform a more secure transplant, at which point you'd experience a subtle tissue rejection with similar effects to those you are now suffering, but much accelerated."

Baron Fell's face had darkened as Ivan exposed the depth of his ridicule at Bharaputra's hands, now he vented some of his anger, "Luigi Bharaputra will rue the day he crossed me," his jaw muscles clenched as he gritted his teeth in anticipation of tearing Bharaputra apart, or perhaps eating the leftovers, "If I can believe what you say, then he no longer has a hold on me - there isn't a hole deep enough for him!" He realised he was allowing his feelings to show too much and pushed them down again, "You Barrayarans have a reputation for vengeance - well, stand back Captain... Once I've confirmed your information of course..."

"I will give you our data Baron," said Rowan, "which comes with a tissue sample and details of the nature of the tampering."

"Nevertheless, I will check," his eyes blanked for a moment as he considered something, "I have some assets inside, as you'd expect, and for this I'll risk their sacrifice - but so do you it seems, have assets and are willing to risk them in this enterprise - Captain? Or is this a Durona asset?"

"That," stressed Ivan, "you do not need to know, nor can er, they be contacted or used for your purposes - we have our own priorities in this Baron, but I still believe our interests are parallel - if I might continue."

Fell gazed coldly at Ivan, before nodding assent.

"An orbital bombardment would be an easy solution, and I can't say I particularly relish a visit downside myself, to be honest," Fell's eyebrows rippled in surprise at such an unguarded admission, "but it is my duty to witness personally, for my Emperor that certain goals are accomplished - and that can only be done with acceptable certainty by a ground assault. Although my Emperor might accept your dealing with Bharaputra as partial payment for what we are providing," Ivan gestured to Rowan indicating the major part of their payment, "we can not accept anything but personal control over the acquisition or destruction of the means of his planned attack on Barrayar. So we..."

"The two clones? They are the means aren't they? Some similar plot to the Komarran's and Mark?" He slapped the desk, "Now it makes sense - very good Captain. You surprise me! Perhaps your emperor has some subtlety himself, or his security advisors?"

"I'm not sure I follow? What we propose is..."

"You'll get the clones - a nice warm story for your press, and leave the dirty work to me eh? That's what you want isn't it - a two pronged assault - I take down Bharaputra while you make a heroic rescue, and if my clone happens to die in the cross fire, why should I care? And if the life extension treatment doesn't quite work - well, you'll be long gone, and no one the wiser!"

"I er, sorry Baron you've lost me?"

"The Baron assumes you have some reason for seeing him removed as well," explained Doctor Durona, "That way the real connection with Barrayar is obscured and any future Jacksonian retribution is dissipated, or focusses on House Fell, or dies when he does. Correct Baron."

"Close enough. A realistic expectation, in my experience."

"Except that you are not dealing with a Jacksonian," said Rowan.

"Your point Doctor?"

"We Duronas have come to understand them quite well and they have a weakness for honour. An anachronistic weakness which is particularly prevalent amongst both their nobility and their officer elite. Captain Vorpatril is both. He is virtually incapable of giving his sworn word on any important matter and going back on it later. He would rather die than suffer the shame of being forsworn."

"Nonsense! No military commander could afford such weakness! His enemies could twist him around their little finger! What do you take me for, a fool! If you think I'd base any decision on such a ridiculous supposition then you do not know me at all."

Ivan relaxed, he'd been expecting a demand for his word on something. He didn't mind giving his word to someone with an equal sense of honour, but Baron Fell wasn't in that company.

"I certainly wouldn't expect you to take it seriously Baron, but the Captain would take it seriously under circumstances which could be applied to this situation. The detail which you have not grasped is how such a sense of honour may be usefully employed by more cynical superiors at a distance. If for instance they used such heroes as a sacrifice, or as troops for a higher commander who had no such qualms about deceiving his enemies or even allies. Officers and troops who would gladly give their lives in support of their home world without a commensurate financial reward. Medals are cheap after all, as long as the recipient or their relative accept that it is a token of honourable service and state gratitude. What would it cost to employ mercenaries to do the same job, and could you ever trust them?"

"I suppose it could be made to work for a hereditary system like theirs, though never here." As the Baron stared intently at him Ivan shifted uncomfortably, "So Captain - what is your word worth, or the word of your Emperor, heh? What promise or undertaking will you give me that you are being truthful - not withholding any pertinent detail of this messy plan, anything that I might want to know, whether you think I need to or not? How will you persuade me?"

Rowan smiled, and Ivan began to think that Jacksonians must have some deeper connection despite their protestations of pure self interest. It seemed that Mark had revealed more to the Duronas than could be properly justified by a business connection - and Mark was perfectly capable of being a completely cold hearted, iron plated bastard!

"I don't know what you mean. We've been straight with you all along - maybe a bit cagey when negotiation required it, but that seems like it's the way business is done - here or anywhere. What exactly is it that you find so difficult to believe about the Deal we're proposing? Why is it you think we'd want to double cross you, I don't really follow."

"Come now Captain, you can't expect me to believe it, despite what Doctor Durona says about honourably fools. You really can't expect me to believe that you would be willing to support my taking control of Bharaputra's interests as well as my own and provide me with a life extension to enjoy it. Because you must know that you would risk me becoming the effective controller of all Jacksonian space and possibly extending my interests further, maybe impacting on Barrayar's galactic interests. Maybe in competition with your Komarran trade fleets," he waved his hand to indicate the vague presence of the Merchant fleet at Dyne station.

"Er..." Ivan prodded his lazy intellect into motion, how did Miles' political peers manage to say so little, so well, with so many words? "I don't know what effect your ascendance might have, but as long as it was peaceful then I doubt there'd be very strong objections." What else could he say that would convince Fell? Well, the truth was usually easiest to understand and remember, "I'm not a politician or a historian or whatever, maybe Miles would know better, but I wouldn't think you could do much economic harm to us in even an extended lifetime. I mean as I understand it that would be decades rather than centuries right?" he looked at Rowan, and she nodded, "So you might inconvenience Gregor, the current Emperor, but not his children and grandchildren," or mine if I'm lucky. He straightened and addressed Fell with assumed confidence, "Unless you had an heir to hand it on to. So how would it be if I undertake to bring back your own clone alive and well - I mean you can't use him as a transplant host anymore, which isn't his fault after all, and he is your biological heir if nothing else," he began to warm to the idea now, "You'd have control of his education, so you might instil some sense of honour and gratitude or something, and train him up as a proper assistant and heir. I don't know what you were like as a kid," and maybe that was something better left in the past, "but you could shape him to be a worthy successor, maybe even take care of you if you," were so crippled you could no longer protect yourself? No wait, "wanted to retire and, and take a tour of the wormhole nexus - maybe in your own yacht with some beautiful," he glanced at Rowan, "sights to see - the outer worlds have good views of Andromeda and there are double stars and red giants worth seeing," he waved at the framed artwork, "I know you'd appreciate them. Other planets too, where there are simple folk like me who really don't think in terms of killing everyone!" He ran out of breath and felt like he was hyperventilating.

"See what I mean?" said Rowan, "Hopelessly romantic and endearingly honourable. Who knows, maybe he's got a point too. What exactly are you accumulating your power for? What is the point of it apart from feeling secure and scoring points? It can be a satisfying game but, as Lily always knew - everyone losses the last hand."

Georish Stauber, the man not the head of House Fell considered them, switching his gaze from one to the other, mentally comparing two universal views as though he could see some enduring philosophical landscape to help him reach a decision - but he did not reveal what he saw through those strange binoculars.

Fell fixed Ivan with his dark eyes, "Captain Vorpatril, I will accept your word on the following: You will recover my clone intact, along with your emperor's, and deliver him to me to do with as I please, without condition. Neither you, your Emperor or empire will interfere in the future development of Jackson's Whole and it's possible future expansion, if that is under my control or includes my interests; as long as there is no direct military or physical threat to Barrayar's territory - normal business action excluded of course," he shifted his eyes to Rowan, "Regarding the outcome of my treatment at the hands of Doctor Durona: if I die by her or her group's antipathy you will avenge me - through your government or personally if they decline to honour the agreement."

That didn't please Rowan at all, but she looked down and clenched her jaw.

Ivan interrupted, "I can't do that!.."

Fell smiled, "Much as it would please me, I do not expect you to assassinate the Duronas for me Captain," Ivan shut his mouth, "I mean of course, that you will take legal action against them, for murder or whatever charge may be appropriate - specifically you will ensure that their actions are well publicised, to discourage any other customers that might be considering their treatments."

Rowan looked up, with due concern, and a hint of grudging admiration. After all, if there was any evidence of the treatment being false, Fell would probably leave posthumous instructions for some third party contractor to carry out the Duronas assassination.

Fell asked, "Do you have anything to add before we reach our agreement Captain?"

"Our ships, military and merchant will be free to leave whether the operation is a success or not."

"Glad you remind me. As long as you act in good faith you will be allowed to leave with my blessing, once I have successfully recovered from the final treatment."

"What? Which treatment?" Turning to Rowan, "I thought the last part was quite a long process, what are we talking about? Weeks?"

Rowan looked annoyed, "Baron..."

Georish looked smug.

"We can't wait that long to make our move on Bharaputra," Ivan objected, "and once the raid is over how do we know what the other Houses will do, how they'll react - that's not part of the Deal!"

"Yes it is." Fell looked from one to the other, enjoying their reaction for many seconds before he clarified, "I will trust you not to make any mistakes in my treatment and you will trust me to be your ally in this. Until the raid is successfully completed your entire fleet remains where it is."

Georish Stauber fixed Ivan with his gaze again, while Ivan wondered what was coming next.

Baron Fell continued, "I am not unreasonable - if the raid goes very badly, perhaps fatally for you, then I would not expect your people to remain very cooperative, but if we are successful then part of my payment will be your military ships remaining in support of my position until a new balance can be negotiated - which will of course be more favourably to me when I can show an unassailable position to the other Houses."

Ivan considered this before responding, "I have been given certain negotiating powers by Gregor, but this stretches them," Ivan paused for thought, "Let me be quite clear Baron, my fleet will absolutely not be drawn into your power struggle as your mercenary troops. I have to insist that once the raid is finished our merchant ships will then be free to leave. In fact they should stand off as soon as the raid begins, so they can't be used as hostages against either of us in any future negotiations."

Fell opened his hand in tacit agreement of the point.

Ivan continued, "Those ships and a small escort will be given free passage as soon as things stabilise after the raid is over, but without having to wait for your full medical treatment to finish," he overrode the beginnings of an objection, "however, the cruiser _Kanzian_ and half the other escorts will remain here in support of your negotiations, so long as those negotiations are not unreasonable. We are not here to support a play for complete control, or to take any part in offensive action. I believe I can allow that we would offer purely defensive support of your station here." Because the remainder of the voyage was through well travelled routes Ivan thought the smaller escort would be acceptable to Vortigan, subject to some shouting.

"Go on Captain, I think you are not quite finished?"

Rowan looked grudgingly impressed, and interested in what else he might be about to suggest.

"The Barrayaran clones will be allowed to leave on one of the escort vessels, assuming the raid is successful and as soon as the wider situation allows; they will not be held hostage while your medical treatment progresses. I will remain here with Doctor Durona and the remainder of our ships as liaison until your position is more secure and Rowan finishes her treatments."

Georish Stauber smiled in grudging satisfaction, "Not bad for a novice, Captain. I don't believe I have any objections to your conditions." He looked at each of them, but they were waiting for his own pronouncement, "Very well, Deal!"

Rowan visibly relaxed and Ivan's breath whistled out as his tension eased - how did Miles, or Mark for that matter manage to do this sort of thing again and again - Miles in his Dendarii days and as an Imperial Auditor, and Mark with all his high level business dealings? Ivan felt like he'd been wrung out, both his muscles and - well his clothes felt more like they were in need of wringing out!

Rowan got up, "Captain, would you escort me back to the ship and I will collect the serum and my medical equipment. Baron, when will it be convenient for me to start the treatment? The first stage is an injection, but you will need to remain resting for about a day - no heavy physical or mental effort and no significant stress. I know you'll want your own medical staff to take a sample to test from the anti-viral serum. I will provide written instructions on the serum's storage requirements, and how to administer it if you'd prefer your own people to do so. There's nothing unusual in how it's administered, just in dosage and timing. The first two stages are designed to stabilise and reverse the effects of Bharaputra's virus, then the final stage is the anti-aging serum."

"Thank you doctor, I have a few customers to see to, but my medical staff will make you right at home. You'll stay on station as my honoured guest until our business is concluded," it wasn't an invitation he would allow her to refuse, "I should be ready for you to administer the first treatment in about three hours - will that be sufficient time for my people to run their tests, with your help?"

"Of course Baron. I should be able to get to the laboratory in about half an hour," she smiled at Ivan who was trying not to hover too much in his eagerness to get back to the ship and see if he'd be able to convince Vortigan he'd not just committed the fleet to more than the Commodore would allow, "Captain, shall we go now?"

Baron Fell stood, but remained behind the desk, showing no inclination to shake hands or otherwise expose himself to personal contact, after his experience with Cavilo, "I'll see you in a few hours Doctor, Captain," he buzzed the door open and Captain Trammel stood outside waiting to escort them back to the ship. The door thudded shut behind as they followed the guard captain back across the reception lounge. Ivan kept his eyes away from the transparent wall - he'd be seeing the planet again soon enough and he didn't think his stomach could take any more strain at the moment, he just wanted to get back and have a shower and get changed while Rowan got her medical stuff ready. No, he'd have to update Vortigan first, while standing at attention in a damp shirt!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Ivan managed to get through his report in a rush, to avoid Vortigan interrupting. He got through it, but only because the Commodore had been keeping his ire bottled up while he listened to the full measure of Ivan's divergence from the original plan.

Vortigan was annoyed, his voice a controlled growl, "What right do you have to commit my command to support Fell's power struggle Captain?"

Ivan winced, but he had a card up his sleeve, which he produced now, having detoured to his cabin to retrieve it for the occasion. Actually he had it inside his tunic, which required a slight delay for him to undo the clasps and slip his hand inside. He stepped forward, placed it on the Commodore's desk and stepped back, returning to attention with a stamp of his heel.

Vortigan eyed the document with dawning anticipation of what it might hold. Ivan did not disappoint him, "I was given authority to enter into any reasonable agreement to facilitate and expedite the return of the clones and the safety of the Komarran fleet or other dependent civilian personnel sir. In my estimation the commitment I gave was commensurate with that brief, and did not compromise the best interests of Barrayar or your command beyond what might be expected when dealing with Jacksonians sir."

"You did, did you?" He opened Ivan's letter of authorisation, formally worded on headed paper and signed and sealed by Gregor personally. Ivan had the electronic copies including universal validation codes in his pocket too.

After scanning through it Vortigan leaned back and eyed Ivan coldly, but his voice was more measured, "You should have discussed this with me before you met with Fell. I dislike this sort of short circuiting of the chain of command. Since I know that you have been personally acquainted with the Emperor since childhood I will take the view that the Emperor knows your capabilities and trusts your judgement. I presume he knows something of which I am not aware, since I saw no record of high level diplomacy in your service history. Unless it was unrecorded during your time in London, Earth. Are you in fact a qualified diplomatic negotiator Captain?"

Ivan felt strangely sympathetic for the Commodore; it almost made him glad that the command of the orbital contingent wasn't his, until he remembered what his own role in the upcoming raid was to be, and what he had to look forward to on his return to orbit and to Fell station. "No sir. The Emperor asked me to be his personal representative in the matter of the clone's retrieval and in order to expedite that, as the man on the ground in those negotiations I tried to do my given duty to the best of my abilities. I know it must grate on your... It must be irritating to have me seem to be high handed, to spring this extra responsibility on you out of the blue, but I couldn't very well show weakness with Fell by crying for help sir, could I?"

"If that's an example of your diplomatic abilities I think we might as well set the auto destruct timer right now. At ease Captain, and have a seat." The Commodore's nose twitched, and he inhaled curiously as Ivan stepped forward again and sat down in front of the desk. Vortigan shook his head slightly and dismissed the thought, "Here's your imperial edict, unless you'd like me to store it for you in the ship's safe?"

Ivan took the letter, refolded it into the envelope and put it back in his inner pocket hoping, it wouldn't get too damp. He needed to get out of here - the ventilation wasn't good enough to hide the result of his earlier nerves, and knowing Vortigan had noticed the smell wasn't helping his current state of mind either, he manfully controlled a shiver, "No sir. Is there anything else you need from me at the moment," he smiled ironically, "I could do with getting a shower and some rest before the action starts."

"Yes. You could. Take a shower, then report to Colonel Hammond and go through the troop dispositions with him and Kimura. You're sure Fell will cooperate fully and his men are good enough to get the job done?"

"I believe so sir, but I'd suggest a combined planning session to coordinate and get a better idea of their capabilities, make sure we haven't missed anything."

"Good. we've got to wait on Fell, so organise that at your meeting with Hammond and Kimura and let me know of any difficulties - before you make any further commitment of my forces, if you'd be so kind?" Vortigan waited for Ivan to give a short nod then, "Dismissed!"

Ivan stood up and saluted before making good his escape and walking quickly back to his cabin for a well deserved shower, after putting his uniform into the cleaning slot.

After donning his other uniform, he called Lieutenant Crozier in and explained the situation, "You know Lieutenant Teller and the sergeants better than me, who would you assign?"

"Sir, I know Teller wants to be on the drop mission - he's not been on a live ground attack before. He's a steady and conscientious officer, none better. Sergeant Werrel has several ground based missions that would be relevant, and a good variety of other experience, and he was a proctor and occasional lecturer for basic training at the academy - it's all in his file sir, I'm just going over it while I think - to be honest Teller has faster reactions than me, again that's in the files. Hutton has more security and protection duty than the rest of us put together. Sir I'd like to be on the ground mission too, as would Hutton - we all want to get those clones out for the Emperor sir, but you want to know who I thinks is best?"

Ivan nodded, and kept his face blank and serious, though it took some effort. Crozier had obviously come in expecting instructions and time to prepare, so it wasn't such a bad response, though Ivan wondered how he'd do in the heat of real action - probably fine or he'd not have been assigned the mission in the first place.

Crozier straightened his spine, "In my opinion sir, in my opinion the downside mission will require quick reactions and lieutenant Teller will be the best option, supported by sergeant Werrel. If possible I'd suggest a third man, either myself or Hutton, leaving the fourth to guard the Doctor alone for the duration of the downside mission. Until we make the drop myself or sergeant Hutton will accompany the Doctor, in shifts sir."

Ivan smiled, "I agree. Have them get your gear ready for the drop. You will ensure that you get a few hours sleep before we have to suit up. See to it, and let the others know, and have Hutton come and see me before he relieves you pre-mission tomorrow. Sort out any other details as necessary and let me know if you need anything. I'll inform the Doctor she's to be guarded by you when she goes back over there - or has she already left?"

"Yes sir. She and Hutton took the medical package across, while you were in with the commodore. Hut... there's a rumour we might have to stay here in Jackson's Whole for quite a while sir, and I'd like to be able to tell the men how long it might be - they're a bit concerned about having to guard those clones for a long period, if we're stuck here at the station, with just four men to protect three people, sir it spreads us too thin," Crozier ran down towards the end, almost breathless. Ivan wondered if he'd ever seemed so young to his own commanders. Thinking back to Vortigan's dressing down he suspected it might be a variable perspective.

"Relax lieutenant. If things go according to plan you'll go out on one of the escort ships and travel straight back to Barrayar. But I may need to detach one of you to assist me - Doctor Durona and I will be delayed a week or two. We can discuss it tomorrow morning, for now just give your team their assignments."

Ivan dismissed the Lieutenant, then lay down on his bunk and tried to relax. He thought over how he'd handled the negotiations with Baron Fell - he thought he'd done all right, not given too much away and held firm on getting the Komarran merchants and Gregor's clones out. He had a sudden thought and shot up, banging his head on the unused upper bunk.

Rubbing his head he buzzed Crozier, "Crozier, have you spoken to the others yet? You have? Good... No, no problem I just wanted to mention something now in case I forget later," Crozier's image looked back out of the vid screen alertly. Ivan considered how to word his thought, "I wanted to remind you of a point from the original briefing," Crozier nodded, "We already know the two clones we're taking back might have some hidden programming or biological booby traps and they'll be examined here and more thoroughly in orbit when we reach Barrayar, before they go down to the surface. But I just wanted to remind you that these clones - and Baron Fell's, will look like innocent kids, but it's a top priority to ensure they're watched. To protect them but also to protect others from them. Incidentally, that also applies to the Barrayaran deep cover agent. Clear?"

"Yes sir, I had a note anyway, but you've made some additional points more explicit, so I'll highlight that to the others."

"Good. Let me know if you think of anything I might have missed - none of us five have been here before. OK Lieutenant, dismissed, and get some rest yourself - I'll make that an order if I have to, and the same applies to the others. Vorpatril out."

He shut off the com screen and lay down again, feeling more relaxed now, his breathing slowed and he drifted off to the reassuring background hum of the ship.

Rowan had decided to sleep on Fell station so as to reassure the Baron she had every confidence in her treatments and his staff. It was only two hours later that she was woken - the first treatment had been tested and passed by the Baron's laboratory staff and he wanted to get started as soon as possible. Doubtless wanting to have it out of the way before the planned departure time when the raid would begin - about sixteen hours now. She'd half expected the early call and wasn't tired - she'd had plenty of sleep with nothing much to do on the journey from Escobar.

She arrived at the executive medical centre's operating theatre twenty minutes later with the Barrayaran security sergeant, Hutton in tow. She asked him to stay outside in the observation area during the procedure, his presence being mostly for show once on Fell station he would be unable to protect her, but it added to her status in Jacksonian eyes - management, not expendable. No, just not as expendable she corrected.

She started by double checking the biopsies Fell's doctors had taken two hours before, and the results of their own checks on her treatment material, and made her own check of a new sample she had them take while she watched closely herself, right in the operating theatre. It was good Jacksonian protocol not to trust anything that had been out of your control when your own or your Baron's life depended on it.

The procedure was simply an injection, but they waited to see there were no immediate negative reactions right there where all the equipment and staff were on tap to deal with any emergency. Nothing happened, and after his personal physician took a second scan and blood sample which both indicated the very slight early improvement, they escorted the Baron to the recovery room next door for a few hours rest before the next tissue tests were required.

"Please, sit with me Doctor. Tell me of your life on Escobar, and of Lilly's last days. You see, I have developed an understandable, if morbid curiosity in other peoples' views of death. I have even been considering how to dispose of my tiny empire here. Though hopefully that will not be so imminent now," he chuckled.

"Lilly? You know she wouldn't consider a brain transplant, and disapproved of the trade."

"She never weakened, even at the end?"

"Not on that point. She swore us all to the search for an alternative - which we haven't told Lord Mark."

"How is that young man? He impressed me when he disposed of Ry and made the Deal for you all. I have followed his career with interest, from afar. Is he really accepted by those backward primitives as a 'Lord' or is it just a title?"

"Well, he himself doesn't take it as anything but a local aberration, but that doesn't stop him using it to his advantage. As you say he's quite a dealer, and I think he shocks them sometimes, though not as often as you might expect. There are a lot of sharp business men around their little empire and quite a few are in business with him. Several other big players have asked for his input. You see we follow his career too, since we still depend on him for a significant portion of our research budget. That's one reason we haven't told him about Lilly making us spear to do it anyway."

"Don't you have other projects?"

"Yes, but I cannot discuss them, you understand."

He smiled cannily and nodded for her to continue. He suspected they might be doing some of their other work on the back of Mark's funding, but would never be so rude as to say so explicitly.

"I will say that we don't do weapons development any more, though antidotes are always a money spinner and we've kept our collective hand in there."

"Good to know, and was that useful in developing my treatment? In fact, were you able to work out anything useful about where the virus was developed?"

"Definitely Bharaputra labs. Based on some of his own bio-weapons research that Chrys and Poppy knew about from way back. They used mostly standard techniques and materials, but building from scratch so there'd be no physical genetic proof; but no one else would have had that precise knowledge and used it in that way. Coupled with the history between you and him having your clone for base material and tests - it couldn't be anyone else. Unless Cavilo got some Bharaputra staff to do it without Luigi's knowledge?"

"No. Not possible. Not for anything non-trivial anyway - or is this a trivial thing to develop, technically?"

"It's not a huge undertaking for an established lab like his, but it would take time and resources, to a value of tens of thousands - a month or six weeks for two experienced geneticists. So it would have to be done with his knowledge, or possibly just Lotus', but someone would have told him."

"And my clone? You think he's been infected also?"

Rowan hesitated, "Yes - and, from the reported symptoms we think it's a different virus. So that even if you were fully cured your clone would need a separate cure and the chances of the two of you being compatible after two genetic modifications is minute," she watched his reaction. He was annoyed certainly, but not really angry about it. She wondered if he thought about the clone as a person or just an object. Either way, it had only ever been a means to an end, "The Barrayarans are going to bring him back I think?"

"That's the plan. I don't want any chance of Bharaputra left with a tool for further schemes. if he survives the raid."

"But Luigi Bharaputra will be dead in a year or two anyway, unless his scientists are a lot better than we think," unbidden her mind threw up the name of the only man she knew who might be able to develop a cure in the next year or so - Canaba, but he was long gone. It was some of his old work that underlay the virus, but that wasn't any business of Fell's.

"Which is why I want the clone. As long as one of the raids succeeds, I win. Remove Luigi or the clone. Even if Luigi survives I deny him any vicarious focus for his ire. It would be very vexing to have him perform undignified acts upon it and publish the recordings, eh?"

"I see. You have been thinking about the clone then, but only from your point of view and Bharaputra's. What will you do with the clone when you get him?"

"This virus you believe Luigi has infected the clone with - would it be catching?"

"Unlikely. He'd want you to go to the point of actual transfer before the result was discovered - whatever his excuse was it would be for your successor. I expect the body would reject your brain slowly, or infect it with the same sort of thing you have now, making the transfer a waste of what little time he thinks you have left."

"Hm. Yes, it has a touch of bitter elegance. Irony perhaps - I get what I've desired so long and it is the death of me - be careful what you wish for?" Rowan grimaced in sympathy, "Do I detect some interest in the clone doctor?"

"Not personally. Many other people die that are almost as innocent, but it seems such a waste - he is your clone after all, so he must be a strong and intelligent person, given the right training and opportunities."

"I am not likely to think of him as a son doctor, or are you thinking that here is another Mark Vorkosigan? Well, perhaps you have a point. Maybe I could use him - but no, he'd still be a focus for plots, an even bigger handle on me if I was seen to have any interest in his future. No, I think it must be death - as you say, not his fault, but my survival is more important - to me at least," he gave a little ironic laugh, which she thought might relate to his personal mortality.

"But his cure would probably, and could certainly render him genetically distinct; genetically another person - no longer your clone. I believe it's what is planned for the two Barrayaran clones. Please don't mention that - we aren't supposed to know, but some of their early questions make it a virtual certainty."

She thought of Canaba again, and his probable residence somewhere on the Barrayaran home world. He would be more than capable, as would the Durona group. Post natal genetic modification wasn't trivial, but even for a complete rewrite of the marker genes it was within the capability of any top genetic scientist. Not her, but several of her clone siblings were up to the job.

"Your point?"

"Let the Barrayarans take him, on condition they do a gene cleansing to give him a new genetic identity."

"But, his cure alone would be expensive would it not? Why would they want him?" he was genuinely puzzled.

"Maybe they wouldn't, but it would be interesting to see their reaction."

Now he looked at her in surprise, "Are you making fun of me doctor?"

She laughed, but at his reaction, not in mockery. The Baron's lips twitched uncertainly, and she took pity on him, "No Baron. I would like to see the Barrayarans tested, to have them see the shallowness or depth of their own morality. It's from something else Lord Mark has been talking about. He's still Jacksonian at heart but he's been observing their society, and his mother - have you heard of her?"

"Yes, in fact I had decided that she might have been an important influence on the other one, Mark's progenitor - but you knew him! You were the one who revived him were you not? I was a little angry at Lilly at the time - and you were pivotal in her deception of me."

"Do you miss her now?" She asked him quietly.

"I do. You know that we used to have conversations, discuss strategies and aims even up to the time when she left. Though we had by that time fallen out about the cloning issue, I still asked her opinion on other things she might be willing to discuss - I was annoyed at her, but I knew she was always scrupulously objective on most things. She had interests in things outside her purview, but did not have ambitions to control them, which I always did."

His mind dwelt on Lilly for a moment before continuing, "It seems so transparent to me now, having contemplated death for several years, but it all goes back to Ryoval and his early purges, before we escaped. I needn't ask if you know our history together," she nodded anyway, "but I swore that no one would ever have that kind of power over me again and so I worked my way up with my predecessor until I replaced him as Baron Fell. The rest as they say is history. Except that for over a decade I have been dependent on Bharaputra to provide me a clone or be beaten finally by old age and death. Unless of course I am replaced in my turn!"

"An occupational hazard which you deal with how?"

"It's a balancing act - limiting how much power any of my subordinates can gather to them; keeping them from forming alliances; ensuring I know what they are up to and what their weaknesses are - nothing that's too much of a security risk, though I am more tolerant than most. I can never rest, which is a point that has become more difficult recently - I thought hard before contacting your group: I knew that within certain bounds I could still trust Lilly, but with her gone I was uncertain how her successor would respond. In the end though I had no real choice," he smiled crookedly, "which wasn't a feeling I enjoyed. Luckily I have something which your Barrayarans wanted and you had something I wanted, so we could Deal. I still don't know what it is that they have and you want - what exactly is your price doctor? The clones are not your concern are they, really?"

"Not directly, no. Lord Mark was convinced of the mission's importance to the empire, where the majority of his business interests still lie, and where he and his family live after all, and he made his own Deal with us."

"I would not normally ask, but it might impinge on my own, my own peace of mind - it would help me to relax better: can you tell me what your Deal involved?"

"Oh, it's nothing that affects you directly Baron, but I don't think it would be good etiquette to reveal it this close to Jackson's Whole."

"Not even to help a tired old man get the rest his doctor ordered?"

"Please Baron," sarcastically, "in any case, if you feel so tired then you should take a holiday."

"A, a holiday?" As though it was something he'd never even heard of.

"Yes. Do you know that as citizens of Escobar we have to be given at least fourteen days, working days a year of holiday - time off work but with pay!"

"Yes Doctor, we even have them here, though as you know they are usually only local. There is much evidence of people liking them, and there are whole companies and local economies dependent on holiday makers, but I have to admit I can't really see the attraction. Doing nothing for days on end - it must get tedious rather quickly. Even somewhere like Earth, with so many historical places and antiques, or sports to do and shows to see - surely it would seem pointless after - perhaps a week?"

"It does take practice, which is a concept that I had my own difficulty with - but once you get the hang of it, it becomes almost addictive! You can go right around the world in a week - not stopping much of course, but you can spend time with an entire solid planet between you and all your siblings! Or you can take some with you and see them doing all sorts of odd things, and in places you've never imagined! See them wear the most incredible cloths and even dance! Crys didn't even know she could dance until she went on her second holiday, and when she came back she took it up at a local dance class and met a man there, and they are 'going out' together and she's even talking about living outside the compound."

"Have you done anything like that doctor?"

"Um," she smiled in reminiscence, "I may have Baron, but now that I'm a citizen of Escobar I am free to do so without having to answer to even Lilly about what I do in my personal time."

He looked at her oddly, "Do you er, still talk to her then?"

She smiled crookedly back at him, "I don't believe in an after life Baron, but I do still think of her, and sometimes I talk to myself as though she were there - to try and work out what she would have said. She wasn't perfect, but she was wise."

He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, "Is wisdom something you aspire to doctor?"

"It is something which I admire in others and so, yes I aspire to sometimes be wise - preferably when it's important to be so. When my choices are important and I realise it is so, that is when I most miss Lilly's counsel." She stood then, and took his pulse, examined his eyes and pronounced, "It's time for you to take some rest Baron. I'll send them in to take the next samples, then you should try to get some sleep - it will help the treatment progress more quickly," she considered and rejected the idea of suggesting anything to help him sleep - drugs were not a thing he was likely to view with any degree of trust. She left the room, waved Hutton to stay where he was, leaning lightly on the wall opposite the Baron's door, and went to find his medics to take their samples before she went for some rest herself.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Ivan was woken by an insistent buzzing from the coms panel. He sat up and ducked at the last moment, with sudden memory of hitting his head earlier. The clock on the coms unit indicated that he'd been asleep for less than four hours, which caused a slight surge of adrenaline to bring him more awake.

He pressed the answer key and Vortigan's face showed, looking very worried.

"I just had Baron Fell on tight beam asking for you Captain, there's some activity downside you need to know about right now, and he's bringing 'the meeting' forward. I want you to make the call from my office, so please get down here immediately! I'm scrambling the troops and the shuttle pilots now."

The screen went blank abruptly.

Ivan expelled his held breath explosively, dashed into the tiny bathroom to splash some cold water on his face then pulled his fatigues on, grabbed his tunic on the way out and threw it on as he jogged towards Vortigan's cabin.

He was at the door about three minutes after he'd been woken, and was still buttoning his tunic up as the door opened.

"Come in! I'm returning the call now. Here," he swung the display around as it came to life and after a second's delay Baron Fell's face showed. Fell looked down, checking something - probably that the secure encryption reading at it's highest, then he spoke rapidly, "Damn Bharaputra! My agent was cut off in the middle of a report - they must have traced him - they know something's happening, though I think not any of the details. If you want to make your play for the clones you need to be ready to go in ten minutes!" The Baron looked away, at some other display, "My troops are embarking right now - they'll hit the main facility in twenty three minutes, everything else is as planned," he looked back through the pickup at Ivan, "I need your decision right now on what you're doing - is it a go or not?" Ivan thought, while Fell looked away again and continued, "It's a rush, which makes it risky - if you plan to abort will you be bombarding the facility from orbit or not - because if you aren't I damn sure am," Fell was clearly upset and feeling the pressure, but he took a deep breath and visibly calmed himself again, but still he looked away from the pickup, at other information flowing in to him, "Luigi probably knows by now that Doctor Durona's here so he'll go all out after me unless I get him first. I have people trying to find him, but he's probably mobile already. It's still worth taking out his ground bases - deny him those assets, and keep him on the run. I'll be contacting the other great Houses, reassure them it's a personal matter justified under our codes," now the Baron looked out at them again, with a nervous intensity. It was decision time, "So Captain, and Commodore I assume you are there too - what's it to be?"

Ivan looked at Vortigan; Vortigan ground his teeth and nodded sharply.

"We'll be embarking as fast as possible Baron - I'll confirm readiness then, which should be about ten minutes," he set the stop watch on his wrist com, saluted the Commodore, and the Baron simultaneously and left at a run.

Vortigan shouted after him, "I've told your ImpSec team to meet you at hatch three!" He barely heard the muffled acknowledgement.

Lieutenants Crozier and Teller and Sergeant Werrel were already aboard and suiting up when Ivan barrelled through the hatch, last to arrive. The marine sergeant hit the door control, and the hatch slammed shut. Heavy clunks and squeals were transmitted through he hull as the shuttle broke free of it's docking cradle and moved away from the _Kanzian_ into clear space.

All around the cabin the marines were suiting up, at odd angles in the null-g. Crozier confirmed, "Hutton's on Fell station already sir, guarding the doctor. Your armour's ready and Werrel can help you in... Sir?" he shouted the last word as Ivan pulled himself straight past Crozier, Werrel, and Colonel Hammond, headed for the cockpit and coms station, he waved acknowledgement to Crozier and Hammond over his shoulder before he reached the front and stopped in the cockpit's hatchway.

"Have you got a secure channel to Fell station traffic control?"

"On standby sir!" shouted the co-pilot, keying a control, "All out shuttles are loaded and detached," checking his sensors, "The others are ahead of os as planned sir!" Ivan waved acknowledgement, "Fell station, _Kanzian_ shuttles en-route, Captain Vorpatril for you!" turning his head slightly, "You're live sir!" pointing at a headset on the bulkhead next to the hatchway.

Ivan swung into the cockpit next to the navigator, who had grabbed the auxiliary headset and thrust it at him, grinning insanely.

Ivan clamped his feet around the navigator's seat leg and slapped the earpiece against his right ear, pressed the throat microphone against the side of his throat and spoke loudly, "Vorpatril confirming group two shuttles are clear, acknowledge clearance for passage downside!"

Fell's voice overrode the controller's, "Be fast Captain - Luigi's headed for your target too. We can't locate him. but my informant says he's going there. My force will land at the main facility before of you reach your target. My fighter shuttles will give your group cover... Scratch that - I've just got clearance for your own fighters. Good hunting!"

Before Ivan could reply the flight controller's channel came back on his own headset, "... not too steep. Atmospheric traffic's being grounded and they'll be tracking though so you should be OK. I'll be watching for you on the way back, till you reach our orbital sector - our fighters'll clear your path. Dyne station's screaming but they won't bother you. Good luck!"

The pilot told Ivan to get suited up, "Pronto! Four minutes thirty till two gee deceleration and five to atmospheric braking, it'll get bumpy sir!."

Ivan dragged himself back through the hatch and down the row to Sergeant Werrel - already suited, but without gauntlets - who helped him off with his tunic, manhandled him into the armour and dogged the catches for him. Werrel worked with calm confidence that steadied Ivan, who was distracted by trying to remember if he'd missed anything important in the rush. Werrel did a coms check, then had Ivan test the arm and leg movements, head, waist, back; small movements, wrist and ankle, fingers and thumbs; power ready, weapons lockdown and low power failsafe check. Werrel swung down the locking bar that would hold Ivan's suit in place until released after touchdown, and swung himself around into his place on Ivan's right, pulling his own locking bar down just as the shuttle began lurching in earnest. Werrel got his own gauntlets on just before they were all thrown back and forth against the locking bars for several minutes.

Ivan had the command helmet fully online now and was talking through the rapidly evolving drop plan with Colonel Hammond, making mental notes for the last minute arrangements he'd need to confirm with the three ImpSec men who'd be his close support team, "...damn well can't count on anything now!" complained Hammond, "If Bharaputra's en-route they'll be well prepared by the time we arrive, cross fire positions and levels locked off. Have to go down the rest of the way with heavy charges as close as we dare and hope they're still there when we reach level three."

Ivan had to agree. From the reports of Miles escapade the Bharaputran troops were easily up to setting fire traps and ambushes, false routes and evacuating any assumed target - if they weren't dead already, or worse - on the way elsewhere. He told Hammond rather shortly to firm up the landing dispositions and demolition teams and tell him when he had it ready. He keyed through to the pilot, "Check with Fell traffic control, see if they have fighters over the target yet - make sure nothing gets out. Fire on anything leaving the site - we can't allow the targets to be removed!"

The pilot acknowledged and came back quickly to confirm Fell traffic control had already been given the same instructions by Fell himself and the fighters had been overflying the area for two minutes. Targeting radar had showed no vehicles leaving since the first alert, though there had been what seemed like routine traffic earlier in the day, and there could be people escaping on foot, there was sufficient ground cover to obscure any number of fugitives.

Ivan drew blood when his teeth snapped shut as turbulence caused a sudden drop followed by an equally sudden rise. Kimura was clamped in along the wall opposite and Ivan noticed how different his suit was, a mottled grey with some unfamiliar protuberances and attachments, as well as some sort of personal missile launcher.

Hammond's coms light flashed in his helmet and Ivan activated the channel, "Dispositions are ready Captain Vorpatril, as before except for Orange and Red: The first shuttle in will disperse Green and Blue squads to make the perimeter safe. Then second shuttle with Orange squad for landing zone and inner defence, and Yellow squad demolition and portable shields. They'll place the initial charges to blast down through the first two levels. The concussion effects should soften the defenders inside. We will land last with Red squad, the field hospital and additional equipment and ammunition.

"We'll have air cover and our own shuttles will take off and stay airborne until we're ready for evac. The advance team will clear any resistance as they go - though that depends how prepared the enemy is. As before, Red squad will provide close perimeter for your own team - they've had long enough to make things difficult even if they don't expect our brute force approach. So just get your team in and let me know as soon as you can what the situation is down there. I'll stay up top, ground level but my deputy, Major Samuels will be in charge of your pathfinders and close escort, Sergeant Pyrios is his second in command, they'll have medic Ansell too. Thirty seconds till shuttle one hits dirt."

Ivan selected the ImpSec officer's channel, which his team would share; Crozier was talking, "... so that's the bottom line, no one escapes - rescue or kill."

Ivan interrupted, "Quite right Lieutenant, but only as a last resort."

"What's the plan sir? Who leads?"

"Basically as before, The other squads as outer perimeter, Yellow are demolition; Red squad with us, Major Samuels commanding and Sergeant Pyrios second..."

"I've met them sir, good officers and troops. I'll lead our group with Captain Kimura to spot any traps. Teller and Werrel will be your close support. You'll be free to observe and direct sir. Any final instructions?"

"Yes. By preference you and Teller will each grab one of our target clones, I'll grab Fell's clone - if we have time to be picky, otherwise grab who you can and get out. Our agent on site is female, small and dark haired and will identify herself as Natasha, she's been their nanny for the last three months. She should be reliable, but remember what I said about brain washing, keep an eye on the clones as well as local troops. The two clones are top priority, don't risk the enemy taking them. Get them out of you can, leave everyone else behind if you have to, that's an direct order from the Emperor, understood?"

"Got it sir - Any questions anyone?"

Werrel's laconic voice came through, "You'll owe us a drink back in Vorbarr Sultana for this sir. And I'd better get that leave that got cancelled!"

"My word on it Werrel, free drinks all night with a meal thrown in, you choose the venue as long as fighting is optional!"

"I'll hold you to that sir!"

Ivan smiled.

The general channel overrode any more banter, "Fifteen seconds! Green squad's set up a perimeter and Yellow's blown the roof down to the second level and should be ready by the time you reach them. Two. One." The floor slammed up and the restraining bars hissed and swung up automatically, "Touchdown! Hatches clear! Advance guard ready? Orange perimeter reports clear! Hatches opening! Get your asses out now! Twenty five seconds to lift off, don't make me kick you out!"

Ivan clicked back to the ImpSec team's channel, "Ready Crozier, Teller, Werrel, Kimura?"

"READY!"

He switched back to Hammond's command channel to report in, "ImpSec ready Colonel Hammond. Lead us in."

Shortly before sounds of the attack were heard, the security captain and his men arrived and interrupted an Earth history lesson Natasha was supervising. The civilian staff were being evacuated, except for Natasha and the clones, while the security staff armed themselves and went to their duty stations, then they heard the blast doors slam shut.

The captain had locked the door behind him, and his men had taken that as the order to draw weapons before he'd said anything. He ordered the clones up from the virtual reality learning couches and over to the clear floorspace by the wall. He'd tried to make out they were there to protect the clones from the armed raiders who were attacking the complex - now they could hear explosions somewhere above them. At first the men had pretended not to be aiming right at them, but she and the clones moved about a bit to test that, and were ordered into one group - except for Lew.

As soon as it became clear they weren't being moved she started working out the best strategy and muttering to the two Gregor clones - reminding them of the surreptitious training they'd had. Not nearly enough physical practice to build up proper stamina and speed, but enough virtual training to make the thoughts that drove the body almost automatic. The guards had their backs to the wall, protecting Lew, and with Natasha in front of them, with Guido on her right and Gione on her left. The captain was listening to instructions on his earpiece, three guards on his right and two on his left all now had their nerve disrupters pointed at Natasha or one of the Gregor clones.

Natasha shivered her eyelid at Gione, he returned a barely perceptible nod, she turned her head right and Guido followed suite. They were on notice. The five Bharaputra troopers had them covered with nerve disrupters. All except Lew, who they were protecting. Lew was eying them from behind and also nodded back at her.

"You alright Guido?" she asked.

"Right," he nodded.

"Gione?"

"Leave me alone," he said moodily. So he wanted to be left alone, perfect.

The captains eyes flickered between them, but he was busy listening to Baron Luigi through his earpiece and didn't even bother telling them to shut up. Even better, he didn't have his own weapon in hand.

"Lew? Can't you do something?"

"For those two?" he said with a sneer, as though referring to the other clones, but pointing from behind at the two guards on the captains immediate right.

She nodded, looking miserable, and spoke to the captain, "What's going on? Why are you doing this," shifting her weight and nervously backing away.

"Get back here!" shouted the guard on the captain's immediate left, waving his disrupter at her.

The captain's eyes hardened and he looked unhappy, "Yes sir, don't wait," his attention began to focus back on her. She grabbed her stomach and groaned, pressed the remote activator on her belt, to trigger the charge she'd already placed in the security console as part of her escape preparations. The muffled explosion distracted the guards and their captain.

She fell forward, tucked, rolled and kicked the captain's right kneecap, hard. As he tumbled forwards in agony, she kicked again and got her heel right on his descending nose, which sprayed blood out spectacularly, and knocked him against the guard on his immediate right.

She spun, and locked her feet either side of the vocal guard's gun hand and continued the spin, breaking his wrist, and his hold on the weapon.

Lew had attacked the guard on the captain's far right, with a fine spinning back fist to the the base of his skull, and the man crumpled.

Gione dodged left then tumbled into a right hand roll, at the next guard, knocking his man's legs from under him then a prone axe kick to the back of the guard's head.

Guido broke to his right, jumped and rebounded off the wall into a high somersault and double footed kick to his man's face. The guard turned his face away and fired his weapon blindly, sweeping it around and behind as he fell to his right, but Guido caught his arm and broke it, using it as a lever to spin the man, pivot under and trip him up twisting his arm more so the guard dropped his weapon before it's beam found anyone, though Guido felt a prickling backwash from the reflective wall coating.

Natasha got behind the guard as he tried to grab the disrupter with his left hand, she gripped his head between her elbows, her hands clasped above and twisted sharply, using all her meagre weight, then dropped the corpse and stepped towards Lew's second target, but he was already dead from a point blank disruptor blast. She coughed at the smell of singed hair tickling her nostrils and spun around.

Guido was rubbing his face and blinking.

"You OK Gid?"

"I'm OK - just a twinge."

She checked his target and nodded her praise. Turned and checked the rest. All dead; good clean kills except the captain's bloody nose. The three kids looked at her, staring as the shock began to grow. Couldn't allow that, not here, "Good work! Now grab their weapons and belt shields - check their pockets for anything useful."

She checked the captains pockets, there was some personal stuff which she made a real effort to ignore the consequences of - he'd been married with kids, but he'd also been about to order their execution. She took his wrist communicator and transferred his ear plug to her own ear, shivering at it's oily warmth. She left the channel alone, but locked the communicator for incoming calls only.

"Ready?" they stood up and looked at her, alert and trusting, only a shadow of fear in their eyes.

Each nodded and Guido muttered, "Yes."

"Right, G's get the captain, take an arm each - Lew, you take his legs for now, and follow me. She led them to the door.

She pulled the captains hand over and pressed it against the door control, but it wouldn't open. Not unexpected, as the facility had gone into a security lock down to slow down the invaders, who just weren't keeping to the expected time table. Clearly something had alerted Luigi Bharaputra. So the resistance would be organised and the Baron would be directing it - from where though? He'd have been right here if he was already on site. So her destruction of the security centre should cut him off. Time to go!

"You try it Lew."

His eyes were bright, now the immediate threat had been overcome so easily - have to watch that, it could be dangerous later. Lew grinned and placed his left hand carefully against the reader: the door unlocked.

"Leave the captain back inside. Keep your weapons up - any doubt and you shoot first, no hesitation. There shouldn't be any non-combatants wandering around. You won't hurt anyone in full armour anyway, and our rescuers will be in armour - non-Bharaputran, probably green suits not brown. Shout 'Vorbarra' if you see them before I do - that might give them pause. OK, Guido, you keep a watch behind. Lew, you're right flank Gione is left, I'm point. Don't crowd me but stay close."

The forward half of Red squad confirmed the safe zone and Hammond led the rest out, most of them lugging additional equipment and ammo, "Major Samuels, switch to ImpSec channel three. You will liaise directly with Captain Vorpatril and leave me to worry about the outer perimeter, understood?"

"Yes sir! Captain Vorpatril sir," Samuels raised his arm, "Follow me, my team's icons are the flashing red ones," the arm passed suggestively down his suit mirrored by the more detailed closeup icon in Ivan's visor display. They all headed out into the night, away from the shuttle which lifted off once the medical team had the rest of their equipment out. Even the medics were in armour for this mission - until they had a shielded tent set up next to the landing zone. The shuttle engines whined and it began to rise up, the jet-wash buffeted them all as Ivan and the ImpSec team followed Major Samuels across plateaux scrubland, lit by plasma fire and small explosions in the distance.

Ivan called for a status check and his team's confirmation lights blinked on his helmet's heads-up array.

Samuels' team was surrounding them with Crozier and Kimura ahead of Ivan, Teller and Werrel were out to his left and right rear quarters and all thudding along across the scrubby rock strewn landscape towards a big crater ahead.

Ivan's legs pumped and the suit legs followed with the odd delay caused by the power control linkage - usually only subconsciously perceptible in a well adjusted suit. The rush deployment had left that adjustment a whisker off perfect, but it should be a very minor irritation. Ivan hoped he was the only one who'd been too busy to double check his own suit.

The great hole beneath the crater walls up ahead was becoming visible as they got closer, when the first missiles were detected arcing in from some wide boundary position the enemy had set up. Ivan felt a sick wave of anticipation, the shuttle was still gaining altitude - but the missiles weren't targeting it, they were coming over in a high parabolic trajectory centred in on the crater.

Ivan had his coms set to track Colonel Hammond's output unless his own channel had traffic; on the ground troop's common channel, "Incoming missiles, take cover!" and switching to the demolition team's specific channel, "Yellow squad, take cover! Cooper! Get that fucking shield up, NOW!"

Then the Colonel was shouting again, this time at the air support, "...Why not? Well do it anyway!"

Ivan saw the advance guard from Red squad including Hammond, breaking left and right and diving for any sizeable rocks they could use as a shield between them and the crater - the expected landing zone for the missiles. Crozier and Kimura went left and then he was knocked sideways, to the right by Teller, then Werrel knocked him flat, behind a big pile of rocks as the first missiles hit, one on the lip of the crater threw debris sideways hitting Red squad's medic, Ansell, tumbling him over, but he still moved afterwards. The shield flashed on just a fraction of a second too late as two more missiles vanished inside, and the last two missiles glanced off, towards the outer perimeter's position before there was a bright flash from below and the shield collapsed again revealing a cloud of fiery dust. Goodbye Sergeant Cooper, thought Ivan.

Then there was an explosion above and high velocity shrapnel hammered down across the whole area around the main crater. A mortar round of some kind? Two marines must have been hit badly judging from the searing cries of agony before Hammond overrode and cut them off, dispatching Orange squad's medic to take care of the wounded men, and ordered the rest of them onwards. The shrapnel had made little satellite craters all around the main one, and Ivan tripped going across one of these, but Werrel shoved his elbow just enough to get his balance back.

Dust and steam was still coming up fast out of the pit as they reached the edge and looked down into the flickering mess. There was nothing left of Cooper that Ivan could see, just a tangle of collapsed floors, ducting, pipes, wires and loose panels, with some small fires, though most of the fire resistant material was just twisted and scorched. Hammond had jumped down to the second level and was gesticulating down an irregular hole to one side - a partially collapsed passage. He turned around and waved towards Ivan, "Get down here Captain, my second team didn't make it but the advance demolition team'll be setting their last charges in a moment - we should be through to the third level shortly." Then Hammond switched channels again. Ivan waved his team forward and followed Crozier and Kimura over the edge, jumping straight into the pit, aiming for some clear space on the second level, about ten metres away from Hammond. Teller and Werrel were in the air to either side of him.

Natasha set off down the corridor towards the central core. Without knowing the cause of the explosions, they felt it as Bharaputran missiles hit the floor above, and the shield generator exploding.

They went around the cylinder of the core ramps, blocked off now with blast doors, and nervously crossed the open plan office area heading for opposite wall and the fire stairs. The nearby lifts were shut down, but she managed to get the door to the stairs open using a few makeshift tools secreted in her pocket earlier. As they entered the stairwell they heard heavy boots coming down from above and she put finger to lips, signalling the clones to be extra quiet. There were more explosions on the upper levels, and a door slammed shut above. They continued tiptoeing down the stairs level by level, pausing every now and then to listen again - but the footsteps had gone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Pilot officer Zimmer, flying the last drop shuttle had just got away from the landing zone, narrowly escaping some Bharaputran missiles. He heard the Colonel shouting and his sensors showed the detonation as the portable shield unit was hit. The Colonel said to head out though - there were no wounded needing immediate evacuation, so help provide air cover and be ready to extract them later.

He was still considering if it might somehow be possible to extend his shields over the crater if he could land close enough when the alert came over the air-cover channel. Unbelievable! Fell's traffic control and the downside control were arguing about who's fault it was that the a transport had slipped though!

It was a few more seconds before it began to occur to the traffic controllers that the transport was actually accelerating down on an unusual trajectory - not just an oblivious civilian after all. Then the ground control started objecting, as Fell's fighter shuttles began swooping down and the Barrayaran's up to intercept the descending ship, not that Fell's control or the shuttles paid much attention.

Zimmer finally got it on his own up-scanning sensors and saw the size and trajectory, just as the warning came direct from the _Kanzian_, "Incoming ship will impact the Bharaputran facility in two minutes seventeen seconds. Even if the fighters get it there'll be major debris impacting the battle zone," and on all downside channels as well, "Attention Barrayaran ground force! Incoming ship will impact your area in two minutes ten seconds, mark. Find cover! Find cover! Major impact imminent!"

Then the instructions to the fighters to concentrate their fire on one side to try for a deflection. If they could cause a major blow out on the upper left flank of the hull it should make it fall just short and maybe save some lives.

Zimmer didn't have the speed or the weapons to get to it and have any effect, but he tightened his breath mask and headed up anyway - at least he'd be clear of the impact. Pity the men below, if the fighters couldn't do anything to deflect it.

Hammond was back on, using the air support channel, "What ship? I thought Fell was keeping traffic away from... Then tell Vortigan to blow it! What? Oh screw it!" He shifted back to common ground troop channel, "Now hear this! All topside troops evacuate the area! Repeat, get the fuck away from the crater! All troops inside, go down and away from the crater! They're crashing a ship on us - get away from the crater!" Then on Ivan's own channel, "Get out of here Captain! We've got a bulk carrier coming in hot. Bharaputra must have set it up and Fell's screwed up. Follow me!" and Hammond sprinted down the corridor towards the men that he'd been speaking to moments before, still shouting orders, "Yes! demolition teams evacuate too!"

Kimura came on, "Not that way Captain, it's a dead end. Cross over to there," waving, "there a vertical shaft that way - it'll shield us if I can get into it, and I can."

No one on his team was moving; Kimura wasn't in their chain of command.

"Kimura takes point, we follow, get across there, now!" shouted Ivan and followed his own order leaping the hole in the floor where the next demolition charges would have finished punching through - so damn close!

Teller and Werrel were coming after him and Crozier was close behind Kimura, vanishing down the dark corridor ahead. He keyed over to Hammond's command channel, "Colonel Hammond, Vorpatril here - my team's going down the central utility shaft after the clones. If you can't join us make your way out as you can and provide a diversion if possible. Vorpatril out."

Down the corridor emergency lights flickered, throwing confusing shadows around the walls. Just as he reached the shattered corridor a great shadow obscured the dim sunlight coming down through the crater, Ivan turned his head back and up and caught a glimpse of something big, still high but now quite clearly a ship heading straight towards them. He estimated they had less than thirty seconds before it hit.

There was an explosion up ahead and Ivan raced into the dimly lit corridor after Crozier. As he reached the end he saw Kimura waving him on urgently from next to a ragged hole in the south, outer wall of the ramp. Through the broken outer wall Ivan could see another hole in the wall of the inner central shaft. He dropped down onto the ramp and glanced to the right where he saw the blast doors which blocked off the pedestrian ramp on this level.

The ramp wound around the hardened central utility shaft, but up and down access was blocked at each floor by heavy blast doors locked in place to prevent invaders getting to other floors too easily. Likewise the lifts and the fire stairs in the centre of the north and south boundary walls had hardened, locked doors.

So Kimura had used his short range personal missile launcher to blast a hole through the walls and into the central utility shaft. This would allow them to get down, away from the crater, the presumed impact point. Ivan wondered how they'd get out, and hoped Kimura had thought of that too but time was getting short! He stepped across the sideways-sloping floor of the ramp to the other hole and, right hand steadying him as he leaned through the hole and peered down the dark interior. There were small bright lights bounching from wall to wall as the others made their way downwards. Kimura had sent the ImpSec men down ahead, while he waited impatiently for Ivan.

Without a word, Kimura pushed him from behind and he toppled forwards, turning it into a dive for one of the cross girders. His suit's anti-grav engaged to slow him down and he slapped the girder as he dropped past, angling him towards the side wall. He reduced the anti-grav so it wouldn't slow his descent too much. Kimura followed him, his anti-grav low as well, swinging off the first girder to get a good trajectory so he could achieve a bouncing jump diagonally down from one point to the next. Ivan realised that Kimura must have checked the Barrayaran suit specs, and knew Ivan's anti-grav would engage automatically. Their suits would have protected them in any case, as long as they managed to avoid a simple four or five floor straight drop onto their heads!

Major Samuels, Sergeant Pyrios and three other troopers had gone ahead to find cover for those following - which should have been Ivan's ImpSec team.

Hammond hadn't received Ivan's last message and he followed his men going west down the corridor to seek cover, they turned right at the end into another corridor heading north along the western boundary wall of level two. He followed Pyrios along for a few steps before checking his position display and cursed when he saw that Ivan and the others weren't following. Too late to go back for them now. He watched their position indicators blink out next to the central core ramp - they must have found a away into it.

He was distracted then by plasma fire up ahead at the north west junction where his men had just reached the next corner. They should have been getting in position, finding any cover they could before the incoming ship hit, but it seemed like they'd found the enemy instead - confirmed by their com traffic.

Major Samuels was directing fire somewhere farther along the corridor. Sergeant Pyrios appeared at the corner to warn those following, and as the Colonel lumbered up the Sergeant looked behind at the empty corridor and blurted, "Where the hell are the others sir!" before he too checked his positional display and realising they weren't coming. Angrily he muttered, "Bloody ImpSec can never take orders!"

"Report Sergeant!" barked Hammond.

Pyrios summarised, "Five enemy guard up ahead sir - there to protect access to the stairs and lifts. We blew through the wall and they hit us from cover - they've got good shields sir and we didn't detect them. Yerrel took a missile, Lessing's down from shield failure and Garring got caught by a roof collapse. The Major needs some more sir - I was hoping the ImpSec men could help but..."

Hammond waved him ahead, "Well, lets see what we can do," he followed the sergeant around the corner and through the blown out back wall of an office, into much larger, but heavily damaged open plan office area. The injured troopers and the Major were holed up behind a pile of wrecked desks and surrounding rubble from a big ragged crater in the ceiling where a missile had brought down a large section. The Major was firing over a desk with his plasma arc, helped by trooper Garring, who was lying still, but with his right arm over the pile of rubble and firing at random to help keep the Bharaputran's heads down.

Vortigan was fuming, pacing around the tactics control room of the _Kanzian_, "Well give me some options! We must be able to do something!"

His first officer was an angular, hawk faced minor lordling of the Vorhartung clan, experienced but not forceful enough to win his own command yet. He was a good and capable officer, who always had answers - which made Vortigan more angry than he should have been when Vorhartung reiterated, "We can't get clear of the station in time sir, and no missile could get there quickly enough anyway. plasma or opticals would disperse too much, firing at an angle through atmosphere - even if we could. The fighters will get to it and they may be able deflect it enough sir... I hate the waiting myself."

The Commodore moved closer and whispered, "Do not presume to sympathise with me Vorhartung."

The tall, sedate officer stepped back stiffly and replied quietly, "No sir, of course not. I was only voicing my own insecurities sir."

Vortigan regretted his own outburst and calmed himself with difficulty before saying, "Of course Emile, as you say it's very frustrating to have such power and be unable to use it at such a time. If we can't do anything directly perhaps we can do something less direct. You're more of a diplomat than I, please get onto Baron Fell and ensure we'll be able to pick up the pieces - rescue our own men after the impact. I don't want anything slowing down their evacuation. Let's rescue what we can from this mess eh?"

"Yes sir, of course." Vorhartung went and took over the com seat from the lieutenant who'd been liaising with Fell.

Vortigan turned back to the tactics display and watched the fighter shuttles close in. He also noticed one of the drop shuttles was too close, "Lieutenant Rutkin, ask Zimmer why he's out of position - we can't afford to loose one of those shuttles."

The lieutenant made the call, but seemed reluctant to pass on the response.

Natasha and the clones reached the garage level, one up from the utility and long term storage basement. Quietly she unlocked the door, listened without hearing anything, then motioned Lew forward. She backed up the stairs to allow her to take aim over his head, through the doorway. Lew slowly pushed the door further open, leaning as far back out of the line of fire as possible.

She breathed out slowly as the cluttered garage chamber was revealed, opening out beyond some nearby runabout vehicles. She couldn't see any sign of recent occupation, but it was badly lit, only emergency lighting and plenty of places for hidden guards to fire from, though she was reasonably sure they'd have fired or shouted something by now. She whispered to Lew, "Tell them your coming out, toss the disrupter first and hit the floor if anyone shows."

He nodded and tossed the weapon ahead before he waved one hand out past the door frame and shouted, "I'm unarmed. I'm coming out now, hold your fire!" then edged beyond the open door and took another step, but still held the door open nervously, "Hello? Is there anyone there? Can anyone help me?"

There was no response, which didn't confirm anything for sure, but time was too short to hang around any longer. Natasha moved forwards, around the door, peered tensely out into the darkened space beyond the nearby vehicles, then beckoned the two Gregor clones to follow her through. The two clone brothers slid around the door to each side and along the walls, stepping silently and watchful, until they were several metres away, giving good cross fire over the runabout trucks as Lew retrieved his weapon and Natasha ventured out from behind the vehicles into the garage, looking for other transportation.

Near the staircase were a variety of ground vehicles; mostly the off-road patrol runabouts with fat tyres - needed because, for secrecy there could be no easily visible road allowed, and the ground was too rough for hover craft or sleek road vehicles. There were also trail bikes and trikes, a couple of air cars nearer the external door, hover bikes around the walls and a small personnel shuttle, which Natasha was most interested in, over near the south wall. She considered her options as she and Lew trotted across the empty central area towards it; the two other clones covered them from their cross fire positions behind two of the runabouts.

If they could get the shuttle working she could fly it: after she'd completed the ImpSec induction and covert operative training, she'd been given specialist courses, one of which had been basic shuttle piloting - though it had been years since she'd actually piloted one. She'd never flown anything here on Jacksons Whole, but she did know the basic planetary geography and some relevant com channels, procedures and call signs that might help get them through to the Barrayarans via ground control or Fell's orbital traffic controller - if she was lucky and fast enough. Then once they reached orbit she'd run for the Barrayaran military vessels that should be there, and prepared to receive them, irrespective of her mode of arrival. The trouble would be getting past the Bharaputran security's surface-to-air missiles. This shuttle was civilian, but still might have been specially hardened by Bharaputra. If not, she'd have to reject it as too risky, more so the flyers...

As they reached the shuttle and Lew slapped his hand on the hatch lock grinning in anticipation, there was a clanking and squeaking of badly oiled machinery and the external door began it's slow rise, letting cold smoky air and the sound of distant cracking weapons fire in.

Natasha swore and grabbed Lew's elbow, "Come on!" she pulled him back towards the north wall, shouting, "Get back to the runabouts!"

Gregor's two clones stood and beckoned them onwards frantically.

Natasha and Lew sprinted towards the north wall and the mud covered runabouts near the stairs, away from the central open area in front of the rising door, as the garage lights flickered on.

Natasha dragged Lew behind a runabout, as the lights stopped flickering and glared down, they heard the sound of whining jets approaching.

"Look," Zimmer argued, "those fighters don't have a tractor worth spit and I do. I'm going to grab on and act as an air brake and make that ship fall short! Now shut up and leave me alone!" he turned the coms alert buzzer off and tried to keep the small ship going in a straight line, "This is going to be hard enough to manage as it is."

There wasn't time to override all the safety options one by one, so he'd had to go to full manual, and the drop shuttle flew like a brick; even when it was in full descent. Trying to keep it ascending on manual controls, at full boost for this long was a real handful! He might not have enough fuel left to reach orbit even if this worked, even if he didn't land for a pickup. The way he figured it though, they wouldn't need three shuttles unless they brought the big ship down short of the target facility.

He hadn't thought it through past that point - so what?

The shuttle jinked down as he came into some more turbulent air and he over compensated just as he got his first view of the big transport. Head-on it had a relative velocity of nearly three thousand kilometres an hour, and grew visibly larger at a frightening rate. Seven seconds to closest approach and he'd have less than three seconds as it passed him, before he lost his chance. So he ignored Captain Durrel, screaming for him to get out of the way of his fighters, and tried to concentrate on two other things simultaneously instead.

At nearly three thousand kilometres an hour, even with automatic targeting and tractor control it was some sort of minor miracle that he managed to get the shuttles tractor to lock onto the ship and reverse his own thrust at the best possible moment. In this case 'best' was strictly relative.

The slingshot reciprocal effect took him by surprise.

Natasha and Lew had barely joined the two younger clones when a large shuttle screamed in through the still opening doors, slamming into the floor hard enough to make the ground vehicles rock on their suspension and tearing two deep gouges in the plascrete floor. Rock-hard chips sprayed in all directions as it skidded towards the central shaft, but slowed rapidly to a halt, several metres short of the interior wall. The outer garage door stopped rising and began it's slow descent, but it kept sticking and screeching loudly as if recent explosions and the rough shuttle landing had misaligned some part of the mechanism.

The rear hatch of the shuttle opened and three figures in mottled matt brown armoured jumped out, weapons ready, and surveyed the garage. They were followed by fourth one in shiny brown armour. The shiny one and one of the mottled suits had integral plasma arks and rear jet packs. One of the others had a heavy cutting set and the last had a belt fed missile launcher, as did the shiny suit. Natasha was sure that the shiny one was Luigi Bharaputra come to personally oversee the defence of his facility and hopefully the destruction of his enemies. He headed for the spiral foot ramp that went up around the central shaft to the other levels. She heard the ramp's blast doors retract and Natasha weighed her alternatives as she watched the armoured suits disappear.

Zimmer's shuttle snapped around behind the passing transport ship, and the g-force caused him to pass out for a several seconds. The projected tractor field held onto the transport for nearly two seconds before the combined tractor and artificial gravity generator overloaded and, with all the safety overrides disabled it overheated and blew out the port stern body panel. The generator was securely anchored to the shuttle's lower chassis, so it wasn't physically torn out before it failed and the tractor beam winked out.

He wasn't sure the rest of the ship could stay together much longer, but he reduced the engine power by half and left the coolers on full. The automatic pilot refused to engage, but he watched as the automatic engine management vent some of the coolant liquid to reduce pressure.

Even with the shuttle tumbling out of control, most of his attention was on the enemy transport and he was relieved to see had been diverted just enough that it's impact should be over a kilometre short of the marine's position. He sighed as the missile barrage from Captain Durrel's fighters hit the rotating ship's top side, blew out several big chunks and shut the engines off. It didn't do much to change the ship's trajectory, but that didn't matter now.

He supposed he should really answer the calls from the _Kanzian_, asking what he thought he was doing and demanding that he get out of the way! Well, he was already out of the way wasn't he? The fighters had loosed all their remaining missiles and were peeling off as the last few seconds ticked down to impact.

Then, before it hit the surface, the ship exploded and Zimmer's flight helmet visor went black. All the shuttles were knocked into uncontrolled spins as roiling, super heated air flashed past them. The drop shuttle's cooling system was overwhelmed as the burning atmosphere entered the intake vents and melted the whole section.

"What is the enemy force like Major?" asked Hammond.

Major Samuels looked back at him, "Four man team now sir - we got one of them who tried to get closer. That was when they dropped the roof on Garring. I managed to drag him out, but his suit power pack got damaged and he's keeping usage low so he can keep firing on them for now," then he too checked his instruments and looked around quickly, "Where's Captain Vorpatril sir?"

"Gone a different route - probably trying to get down to the clones. Where are these Bharaputrans anyway? I can't detect their suits."

"They're against the wall by the lifts and emergency stairs - don't know if they have any more missiles - they might just be trying to get us to advance before they use them. What are your orders sir?"

"Sit tight for now - that ship's..." The flicker of a bright flash alerted them before their faceplates reacted and darkened, then a shock wave confirmed the timing, reverberating through the air and his suit from the feet up. The ceiling near the central shaft collapsed, completely burying that side of the room, with more rubble coming down from floors above. The air was filled with the dust, ash and detritus that swept through the whole floor until nothing could be seen. Hammond was surprised that he managed to keep on his feet through it all!

Natasha's contemplation was interrupted by what felt like an earthquake - no it must be an orbital bombardment! Blinding light came in under the closing outer door as chunks of rubble dropped loose around sizeable cracks in the ceiling. All the trail bikes fell over on their sides and the other ground vehicles rocked and bounced on their suspension again - some of their windscreens smashed and panels were dented by the larger chunks of falling debris. Lew crouched over her and they all covered their heads and leaned into the side of the runabout, unable to even think about moving until the tremors subsided.

"What was that?" Asked Lew, shouting into her ear - he was probably half deafened from the shock waves coming down from the ceiling, up through the floor and their feet and bones and reverberating through the air from the gap under the garage door.

"Those yahoos in orbit must have given up and decided to bombard the place!" but the bombardment had stopped. The four of them still crouched there, looking at each other. Going outside unprotected seemed like a suicidal act to Natasha. Even if it was a limited bombardment that had stopped, in the dark they wouldn't be able to work out who might be shooting at them and would have little chance of finding Barrayarans or maybe allied House Fell troops - they were much more likely to encounter panicky Bharaputrans and get killed or recaptured and dragged back to the Baron.

The door ground to a halt, jammed a good metre short of the floor - the last hit, or earthquake must have buckled the channel the door slid in. What they needed was an armed and armoured shuttle, like the one Bharaputra had just arrived in, but she'd bet anything that it was not unoccupied! As though in answer to that thought, the shuttles hatch swung down and locked. She edged her head over the sill of the runabout's window and examined the shuttle more closely. It was a fairly standard assault shuttle. It would be heavily armoured as small craft went, and armed. It was made to take the sort of hard landing it had just demonstrated, so it'd be essentially undamaged and probably still plenty of fuel and ammunition. If they could get into it and override any security on the controls it would be the best route out. However there was the small matter of getting into it. No chance of surprise - she couldn't see cameras, but she knew it'd have some and probably be tapping into the base security cameras too. She'd checked and there were none with a direct line of sight to their current hiding place.

She pursed her lips and clicked her tongue, "Damn!"

The clones looked at her beseechingly, they'd come so close to getting out, and could have probably made it in a runabout - maybe, with a big helping of luck. But not if there was a bombardment in progress - with no secure communications they'd be a target of opportunity for both sides - her own comset was locked in her staff quarters, and only an airborne craft was likely to have civilian equipment powerful enough to reach the Barrayarans in orbit. With Baron Bharaputra's arrival, possibly in control of his ground troops and in touch with other houses, even Barryaran ground troops wouldn't be much use now. She needed a way off planet and if they were bombarding then they'd probably have airlifted their troops out first. They had to get into orbit, so they had to get into that damn shuttle. If they even tried the small shuttle now the big one would just blast them!

She looked over the wing of the runabout, the matching stairway on the south wall and the ramp the Baron had ascended were both inaccessibly beyond the shuttle. So it just had to be back the way they came and hope no one was coming down. She and all the clones had memorised the layout of the whole facility, top to bottom and the sparse detail they could find of the surrounding land, ready for the escape attempt. The virtual representations had been crude but useful. She whispered the plan to their expectant faces and they set off at a hunched scuttle past the rearmost runabout into the shadows and back to the staircase door. Natasha opened it slowly while still hunched down, and waved the clones through - likewise hunched over, they scuttled inside and waited. She slide in and slowly allowed he door to swing shut, and worked the handle manually to close the door almost silently before waving the clones to follow her upwards. Now they were going back up where Bharaputra was headed! She had a moment of doubt, but as long as they kept to the opposite side from the creche, Bharaputra and his armoured men would go to the south side of the central shaft, to get to the security headquarters or the creche, so unless he went searching for them through the whole level and caught up to them very quickly they should be all right.

She explained their destination to them and Lew looked nervous but pleased he'd be able to help them get away.

Zimmer didn't really understand what had happened to the transport ship, but he reacted automatically and activated the manual emergency crash system.

The straps clamped him into place painfully. He was already wearing his breath mask - standard procedure in combat. The whole passenger cabin, as well as the cockpit, was flooded with shock foam. His flight helmet visor had cleared, but he couldn't see anything without the external vid feed, which had been fried, or the attitude monitors, which had lost power.

The shuttle was in free fall and most of the systems were dead, none of the automated systems had cut in. He took the manual controls and tried to level it out by feel into a more controlled crash landing - from what he remembered he was above desert, about forty kilometres west of the Bharaputra facility. The backup, mechanical altimeter was counting down metres so fast that even the tens were a blur. He used the manual crank to deploy the emergency chute, and felt the shuttle turn and steady from the breaking effect, before he felt the chute tear off - it might have slowed the shuttle slightly, worth a try anyway. Meanwhile, the emergency crash-system had pumped in the last of the foam and sounded the sonic activator and he was immobilised two seconds before impact.

The flight leader, Captain Durrel, was trying to keep track of where his inner shuttles were going down. His own shuttle was in a controlled glide, headed towards the designated airfield fifteen kilometres way. He wasn't going to make it, but he'd only be a few kilometres short - walking distance if the landing wasn't too bad. Half his six shuttles were going in hard, like that idiot Zimmer! At least the other two would get down safe, even if they were going to be impounded, at least they had a chance of getting repatriated in one piece.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 **

Ivan and the others inside the central utility shaft had found positions around the inside wall, one floor up from the bottom and were looking back up, when the inside of the shaft lit up brightly as the ship exploded. The wall shook and Ivan lost his hand hold and found himself falling down to the base of the shaft. He managed to twist around and get his feet under him to make a good landing on the greasy floor, but one foot slipped and he fell forwards against the corner of the wall. Then he felt something heavy land on him and slid down, whipping an arm across to prevent his faceplate from being pressed directly against the floor just in time, because more heavy objects then hit his back and wedged him face first into the corner, unable to move, even with the armoured power of his suit to help.

When they started talking to each other over the ImpSec channel he discovered that he was at the bottom of a tangled heap; half buried by falling debris, plascrete boulders, pipework and brackets - and the other four members of the team.

It took several difficult minutes to extricate themselves, trying not to tread on each other whilst pulling debris off those still trapped underneath. Ivan had been quite panicked until they told him the debris wasn't as bad as expected. Werrel was on top and cleared a lot of rubble to get Teller out, then Crozier, Kimura and finally in a joint effort they dragged Ivan up through the loosened rubble to stand on top - now well above the bottom of the shaft. By the map that Allegre had provided they were going to have to get out at the utility door which luckily, as a precaution against flooding, was one level up.

Now they had to decide which way to go. Did the third level creche still exist? If those blast doors were still shut, then the ramps were still cut off. So how best to get up to the creche? If the creche had been vaporised they were already near the best known exit, the garage.

Ivan tried the Colonel's command channel, the general ground forces, and the air support channels - nothing. His equipment was working, because the ImpSec channel was still OK, and he got Crozier to switch through channels, and they all worked. So either no one else had survived, or it was the walls of the shaft blocking coms.

He made his decision - they must go for the creche and make sure of what had happened - confirm the clones death, or rescue them if they were still there. That was the mission - but they had to get out of this shaft first. When Ivan told them they were going back up, no one seemed surprised - so maybe it was just his claustrophobia undermining his confidence?

Up they went, on high anti-grav settings - almost weightless so they could just push themselves up until they got to the fourth level, one below the creche. They didn't want to alert any guards near the creche before they were out of the shaft. It would be too bad if they got caught coming out one at a time - but the fourth level labs should be cleared of staff and probably unguarded. Kimura used his personal missile launcher again.

As they emerged from the shaft their suit's external microphones transmitted sounds of collapsing ceilings and other bumps and groans echoing throughout the facility off into the distance, including some heavy foot falls echoing down the ramp: the blast doors on this level were open. Ivan considered the position: there were only five of them, they weren't too familiar with the layout of the base even before what must be widespread collapse and blockage of internal routes through the various levels.

Ivan decided, "Right! Kimura, you take point - you might spot something," Kimura didn't look too happy, but after a moments hesitation he led off up the open ramp. Ivan spoke to Kimura's back, "Keep sharp - it sounded like armoured footsteps up there a minute ago - and it would almost have to be Bharaputran armour. Kimura waved his arm casually, Ivan was stating the obvious. He continued, "I'm next, then Teller and Crozier, Werrel you're rear guard. I'll see if I can raise Hammond too, I've not heard anything from the others. Nothing unencrypted from the enemy either. Can anyone raise the others or the ships?"

No one could.

Kimura led them up the ramp as it corkscrewed around the utility shaft. We're going around in circles, Ivan thought grumpily as they approached the exit to the third level.

Colonel Hammond, Major Samuels, and Sergeant Pyrios waited for the dust to settle, to see if the Bharaputrans were going to attempt to rush them. Their passive sensors had shown some movement signals and some faint indications that there might be other Barrayarans beyond the enemy position.

Major Samuels moved across to the north wall to get a better view and firing position, but just as he raised up over one of the desks a white streak arced over and hit him square in the chest. His suit blew apart and an arm landed right in front of the Colonel. The Bharaputrans had tricked them: they'd waited through the ship impact until the Major moved, then hit him dead centre.

Hammond closed his eyes for several seconds in angry grief, and was just turning away to ask Pyrios how the injured men were doing, when there was a terrific explosion near the Bharaputran's position and the ceiling collapsed, throwing out more dust and blocking any visual clues about possible enemy movement, even infra-red was blocked by the dust.

A single Barrayaran suit signal circled around, wide of the Bharaputran position and approached. Hammond and Garring kept their plasma arcs centred on it while Pyrios watched the rest of the area.

A green mottled suit clumped along towards them between the dust covered office desks, and raised both arms to reassure them before speaking over the marine's general com channel, "Medic Clemens sir - we got turned around and ended up behind the enemy position. So Jennings got close and dropped the roof on them with a demolition charge, while they were getting ready to rush you. He'll be along in a minute - he's just gone back to get into his suit."

"What was he doing out of his suit?" asked Hammond.

"Had to sir, to get through the vents and plant the charges."

Hammond decided to wait until Jennings got there, or maybe even longer than that to find out the details. For the moment they needed to tend their wounded, then decide on the next step to take.

The missile hit hadn't left much of Yerrel so Pyrios just extracted and handed the ID tag to Hammond to put into his hip pack. Lessing's burns from the shield failure had overwhelmed him and he was dropping into what Hammond feared would be a fatal coma. Garring's suit damage might be recoverable if they cannibalised parts from the other two suits - he'd wait for Jennings to arrive, since in addition to his demolition expertise he was qualified in suit maintenance.

While they waited for Jennings to arrive, Clemens administered some field aid to Lessing; mostly pain relief as they didn't want to remove him from the suit yet. There were still sounds of far distant firing, so it seemed like there were other survivors, but with intervening walls and echoing it was very hard to work out where those sounds were coming from. As long as the sounds didn't get any closer Hammond decided they'd take the time to assess their situation before making any move.

A few minutes later Jennings came from the direction of the Bharaputran position carrying two backpacks, which he dumped on the floor once he was over their rubble barricade, "Jennings sir, Yellow troop, reporting."

Hammond looked him up and down. Jennings was on the small size, and Hammond knew his record was somewhat chequered, largely due to an affinity for alcohol abuse and fighting. He was a plain man with an odd mix of negligible academic ability combined with a natural feel for things electrical, mechanical and explosive. It made him a good marine, but only in action. When on base or on leave he usually ended up attracting demerits or time in the guard house. Hammond also recalled a penchant for the abuse of explosives; he'd initially been thrown off the demolition training course for a dangerous practical joke. What a wild card to be handed!

"Relax Jennings, glad to have you with us. I take it you've already checked the Bharaputrans? What's in the bags?"

"Yes sir, they won't be any more trouble sir - Two in suits are done for, two in the emergency stairwell not in suits also killed by the collapse. Job done sir."

Jenning's attitude seemed a little off, Hammond couldn't remember if the man had seen much action before this - none while he'd been under Hammond's command, so maybe it was a nervous reaction. Must remember to keep an eye out for any later problem there, maybe he'd ask Pyrios to talk to him.

Jennings squatted and opened the bags clumsily with his armoured gauntlets, "Two spare standard suit power packs, a few concussion grenades, four high explosive grenades, two small explosive charges and some hand weapons sir."

"Excellent work Jennings, those should come in handy," Hammond waved towards Garring, lying back towards the wall, "Go check Garring's suit - the main power pack's broken and it looks like some actuators may be damaged as well."

Jennings pulled out the two spare power packs, closed the bags, went over to where Garring lay and began checking the backpack damage.

Hammond went over to the rear wall, where medic Clemens and Sergeant Pyrios were bent over Lessing's suit, "How is he Clemens? Should we get him out of the suit or not?"

Clemens had both gauntlets off his own suit, and the helmet off the injured man. Lessing's face was red and badly blistered, his eyelids swollen and weeping blood like fiery tears. The medic had sprayed a thin coating over Lessing's face but looked very serious when he turned and answered, "He needs very urgent attention sir - not what I can do, but a full medical bay, probably a cryo-chamber or an immersion tank. He's loosing fluid over most of the skin's surface and probably internal damage too. I can't tell sir - no instruments, they got broke in the scramble sir. Sorry."

"Not your fault Clemens. So it's best to leave him in the suit till we can get him air lifted out?"

"Yes sir. We'd open more wounds and probably rip skin off trying to get him out and I don't have enough spray to treat much more of his skin anyway. Luckily the cooling system is still working - which often doesn't happen. If we could find a medical station in this complex then I might be able to do something, but it probably wouldn't delay things much. He won't last more than an hour sir."

Hammond took a deep breath and held it for a moment, "Right." He turned to Jennings again, who was still working on Garring's back pack, "How's it going Jennings - can you get him mobile?"

"Gimme a couple more minutes sir, this spare power pack will help, but there's some contact damage so I think it'll discharge faster'n normal, so his range isn't going to be good - about a kilometre. I've swapped some damaged actuators to give him control of his legs again, and his right arm. He'll be able to walk slow and fire his weapon, but not go fast cos his suit's lost fine balance control. Best I could do sir unless I can get any parts off the Bharaputran's suits - and I don't think they're compatible, I might be able to swap some sub-components to get another actuator going - but it'd take time and maybe more tools."

"Leave it. We need to get going - try make contact with any other survivors, and get evac, or further instructions from _Kanzian_. What was the state of that stairwell Jennings, any egress from there?"

"Egress sir? Well, it's collapsed from above - already partway collapsed, and my explosion brought most of that down on the two Bharaputrans in there - so no, it's blocked all the way up, and down to the next level too. Lift doors were part opened by my blast, but the shaft is blocked as well - looks like the outer wall collapsed from that ship's impact."

"Right then, we'll go back to the crater and see if we can find Captain Vorpatril. Check for survivors on the upper levels and the surface and try to contact _Kanzian_. Garring, how are you doing?"

Jennings had the man's com unit working, but only on the main channel as the unit's tuning circuit was damaged, along with his suit's sensors, "I'm fine sir, just point them out and I'll fire sir."

Clemens had told them the area around this side of the central shaft was collapsed, so they went back the way Hammond had come, with Pyrios taking point. Some of the walls had cracked and spalled fragments across the floor, and Garring stumbled a few times as his balance was thrown off by the incapacitated left arm. They slowed nervously as they approached the more widespread collapse around the open end of the corridor, near the crater leading up to the surface. There were many small fires, black smoke swirling around from burning debris strewn beck down the corridor and visible across the damaged floor where the portable shield generator had been destroyed.

They edged forward, Clemens and Jennings in the rear dragging the unconscious Lessing along in his suit. The Colonel and the Sergeant edged out from the ragged, rubble strewn opening with their plasma arcs ready, Pyrios then Garring behind with a backpack containing the Bharaputran hand held weapons. Jennings had hung onto the the grenades and explosive charges in the other backpack.

The Colonel led them towards the central utility shaft, but the whole inner corridor had collapsed, completely blocking it off, from their end at least.

"Right, Troopers Jennings and Clemens - you're with me, we'll go up to the surface and see if we can contact any other survivors, and the cruiser. Sergeant Pyrios, you will stay here with the injured men. We will be back as soon as we establish contact or I decide that's not possible - thirty minutes max."

"Yes sir."

Sergeant Pyrios wasn't happy, but the plan made sense - they had to contact the ship and it would be easier from the surface; too slow to get the injured up with them and no point if there was no help there. At least in this position they were reasonably sure there was no enemy left alive behind them.

Jennings led off, finding holds that the Colonel and Clemens followed, straight up the rubble pile to the upper floor, Hammond trying the different coms channels as he went, but with no response even when they reached the surface. As expected, there was no remaining sign of the field hospital, or anything else - most of the rocks had been blasted away too. His sensors indicated a high level of radiation - fatal to an unshielded human, but suited troops could take the current level for several hours - though what it had been like when the blast first hit he shuddered to think. At least it made it easy to assess: that there was nothing left of the ground forces - unless any of them had found sufficient cover.

"Clemens, you keep trying the ground channels while I try and get through to the ship."

"Right sir," Clemens horrified look scanned the area around him, particularly the scoured site of the field hospital.

"Jennings, keep your eyes peeled, I know you've tweaked your scanners, so put it to good use now eh?"

Jennings acknowledged the point and Hammond shifted channels. They were reliant on the Jacksonian satellite system for coms, because their own ship was locked to Fell's station and that was half way around the planet's sky from where they were. If things had gone according to the original plan it would have been roughly overhead and direct communication possible, if difficult. Nevertheless he tried the direct channel first, but just got static. The air support was their main link, but that was full of static too. He changed back to the ground troop's channel, but no response there either. He spoke with Jennings on their secure link, "Anything?"

"No sir."

Hammond tried the air support one last time, and got a faint response, "Who is that? What's the situation in the air?"

"This is the fighter support group leader, Captain Durrel, who am I talking to?"

"Hammond here, what's your status Captain?"

"We're grounded Colonel Hammond. That ship detonated an atomic before it hit the surface and the electromagnetic pulse fried our electronics, we were too close for the shielding to protect them fully. I and my pilots are under arrest, along with some of Fell's. We're being held at Darrow base until the other Houses can assess the situation. I am in their communications centre... I am instructed to tell you that you should stay where you are and await the Dyne and Hargreaves security team that are currently being assembled. Fell and the Commodore are negotiating our return, but any weapons or other valuables may be confiscated... subject to Jacksonian punitive fines. The fare home looks high Captain. I wish you luck finding a better route - oof! That was uncalled for! Ow!..."

Then another voice came on, "Colonel Hammond?"

Hammond kept silent.

"Come Colonel, you played and lost. Now you must wait and see how the dice fall - if you are lucky your Commodore will get you back sans-weapons, but in good health - depending on your radiation shields that is." The voice hardened, "If you resist Colonel, then we will have no mercy. You have come to our planet and caused havoc. Maybe that ship was Bharaputra's and maybe it was your Commodore using it for a distraction. We will find out, but whatever the case is, we will tolerate no more threat to planetary stability. This petty war of yours will end now. Whether you and your men survive it is up to you.

Think carefully before you raise a weapon against us Colonel. Think very carefully how you will answer to your Commodore for any further pointless expense! Stay where you are and surrender to our shuttle troops and you will not be harmed. Dyne field out."

Hammond exhaled sharply. Well, that was clear enough. Durrel made it clear that if they were caught, and they had the clones they'd be confiscated, and probably used as collateral to extort money or concessions from the Emperor. Which would be both outrageously expensive and publicly embarrassing. To the Commodore as well.

Hammond had his issues with the Commodore, but basically he respected him as a good officer and a decent man. So the course was clear, if not the details. Get the two clones, find a way to get them back to the ship - or kill them. The confidential briefing was clear that those clones must not escape or fall into unfriendly hands.

He switched back to the ground channel, "Anything Jennings?"

"Nothing sir. Coms all dead and," Jennings' voice wavered slightly, "no suit signals at all," doubtless he was thinking of the number of men lost on the surface - three whole troops, fifty one officers and men! And the field hospital medics. And the demolition team. All good men, most of whom Hammond had known for years.

Hammond swallowed his own welling emotions and made the hard decision - there was no time to loose looking for bodies. He snapped out his orders, "Back the way we came! Jennings you take the lead."

Jennings led them back down into the eerily glowing pit.

Sergeant Pyrios was getting jittery by the time they got back, and Hammond briefed them on the situation.

"That ship had an atomic weapon on it and the detonation took out our air cover and communications net. We're on our own, and there are Jacksonian troops on the way. We don't want to be here when they arrive if we can find our own way out. If we can't then we'll have to surrender and be ransomed by those pirates. That's what I'd like to avoid. We have to find those clones and extract them or execute them. If the Jacksonians get them back they'll use them to destabilise the empire - and that could cost thousands of lives. It's an all out effort to reach those clones, unless you are trapped with no chance of achieving the objective - if that happens, surrender and trust the Commodore will get you back. But if there's any chance of getting the clones, dead or alive and free, then go all out. Clear? Any questions?"

"Sir?" asked Sergeant Pyrios, "is there any transport we can use?"

"There may be - there's a basement garage on the plans - so even if there's no orbit capable craft, we might be able to get far enough away for a ship or Fell shuttle to pick us up. It's a long shot, but the first step is to get those clones. If we can't find them or their bodies we make a try to get out on our own anyway, just to keep from being used as a lever on the Commodore. If you do find their bodies, incinerate them, leave no tissue for them to start again, clear?" agreement and nods all around, "All the air cover and pilots seem to be in Jacksonian hands right now, so we're on our own until we can get somewhere away from their control. North stairs are blocked, central shaft has blast doors in place, besides all that rubble, so we'll try the south stairs. Let's go - Sergeant, take point again, Jennings back him up. Clemens, we'll bring Lessing, Garring take the rear. Now move out!"

There was rubble blocking the stairs to the upper two levels, and vague noises, but nothing close enough to worry Natasha, and no boot marks in the dust covering the stairwell landing's floor. Natasha listened through the fire door, but couldn't hear anything specific. There was noise but it sounded like leaks and falling debris rather than armoured guards clomping about, so she cracked open the door and looked out. Wet floors from fractured pipes, including sewage by the smell of it, along with a lot of chemical smells, a hint of ozone and dust drifting in the air. She pinched her nose against a nascent sneeze, edged the door further open until she could see more, then slid out to get a proper view of the security offices. The layout of the levels was similar on all floors, the central shaft of the spiral ramp, with four main corridors dividing each floor into quadrants, and a further east-west passage dividing each quadrant in two. On this floor the north west quadrant was mostly a big open plan administrative office space, but with the security headquarters along the bottom edge, next to the main corridor. The west end of the headquarters offices housed the armoury rooms, with secure access from north and south. The south west quadrant had officer's locker rooms north of the cross corridor and the creche to the south, but blocking the lower half of the north-south corridor, so that the creche's only door opened onto the lower cross corridor, almost opposite the short corridor to the central ramp. The two eastern quadrants had a number of smaller rooms for equipment storage, rest rooms, meeting rooms and a small gym.

As the creche was on the south side of the central ramp, which blocked any direct north-south view, they should be able to remain undetected, so long as they didn't go any nearer to the creche. Hopefully any other guards were dispersed and busy elsewhere, on other levels or outside. Except for Baron Bharaputra and his team. She still couldn't hear them, so now was the time to go. She waved the clones out after her and headed to the armoury's rarely used north access door.

They went at a fast, crouching run along the aisle between the administration staff desks, piled with flimsies and small boxed equipment - including some communicators, small arms power packs and other such components, waiting to be booked out or back in from suppliers. She had spent time kibitzing with the admin staff to help her to understand the workings of the research facility. It was all now covered in grey and black dust, dirt and larger plascrete chunks and dislodged fibre ceiling tiles, even some scuttling insects and spiders. She wondered if the underground complex would ever be repaired and re-used, or simply be abandoned now it's secrecy was blown.

Her attention focused again as they reached the armoury door. She'd managed to observe guards code open the other armoury door on three occasions with the same code, so she was confident it would not have been changed, nevertheless she held her breath as Lew palmed and coded it open. She breathed again, feeling a little faint with relief.

Once inside with the lights on, she saw that there were big gaps in the weapon racks, but still plenty of items remaining. They headed south between the weapon racks, and Natasha strained her ears to hear any waring of presence ahead, or near the far door through to the south corridor. Even though Bharaputra shouldn't go looking - because the most likely reason for their being missing was that they'd already been extracted by the Barrayarans, he might still decide to search. If the Barrayarans were gone by now, and they must be to start the bombardment. She chewed her cheek absent-mindedly, but kept walking, though slower and more carefully, she was having second thoughts.

They reached the armoured suit store. There were only two left and her guess was that one of them would have a fault, but the other should be working perfectly, if you had the key.

Colonel Hammond and his men neared the door to the staircase. There was rubble all around and some on the floor in the doorway, and some of it had jammed the door open, but something seemed wrong to Sergeant Pyrios and he halted them with an upflung arm.

"Wait here, I want to take a look sir."

"Jennings, help me cover the cross corridors. Clemens and Garring move up and cover Sergeant Pyrios," Hammond took a position near the wall slid around the corner his plasma arc levelled down the corridor to the east. Jennings did the same to the west. It was a good place to ambush them, and any enemy might well have seen them earlier, when they crossed the crater.

Pyrios kept his own integral plasma arc aimed as he kicked the door aside and dodged through into the stairwell, stumbled on some debris, but recovered and ended up mostly out of sight to the right, against the side wall, still covering the stairs.

"It's clear sir!" Pyrios reported, then he moved forwards and leaned over the railing, "There's rubble blocking the upper floor, but the downside might be passable if we can clear some of it. Hang on sir, I think I've found Trooper Timmons!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Admiral Quinn had told Kimura he'd need his personalised Dendarii command suit, and she'd been right. As one of the troop leaders from the original Dendarii raid on Jackson's Whole, when he got his new armoured suit seven years ago, he'd made damn sure he had every extra he could get on the suit, having bribed the quartermaster with a few bottles of Cetan brandy. This wasn't really corruption - just educated self interest, which coincidentally protected and increased his value to the fleet. Even if it wasn't the latest technology, he was now used to the suit and it was more reliable than cutting edge equipment, specially if your were in the thick of it.

Now his enhanced sensors detected the emanations from a badly adjusted scanner as they approached the third level, so knew someone was there. He threw up his arm and halted the others behind him and set his own scanners as low as possible while he explained on the encrypted channel, "We've got someone scanning up ahead Captain, and from the readings there's more than one and they're armoured."

"You can tell that? I'm just getting vague power fluctuations!"

"They're wearing scanner shields, but that can't hide their own active scan - make sure you keep yours set to passive; I have a low power setting on mine that I'll try if I have to."

The others waited as Kimura edged up to opening on level three and knelt, then lay down on the ramp, the others behind him had their weapons on hair trigger settings, plasma arcs extended ready, so it was good that he'd be out of their line of fire! He triggered his spy eye and one of the little prehensile filament cameras slithered out from his wrist and along the floor to the corner, directed by his eye movements.

From the central ramp, Kimura could see down the east-west corridor all the way to the east boundary wall - all clear. He couldn't see much to the north side, just a big open area of office desks and rubble, with a few loose wires and ceiling tiles. Around to the south was the end of the central north-south corridor, leading towards where the creche was. The east-west corridor was clear to the west boundary wall too, past the security offices. He slowly crawled across near the corner and extended the filament camera again. Once it was in position he changed the setting, otherwise the thing would wave around wherever he looked, drawing attention to itself.

On this level the north-south corridor was blocked by the creche, it's door slightly offset. He could see movement near the door of the creche, or more likely inside - the definition wasn't very good what with the dust, smoke and flickering lights, but that should work both ways. He shifted to infra red, and adjusted to pick up movement, but the enemy suits must be heat shielded, as you'd expect; the Barrayaran's were. Even so, they'd be detected as soon as they crossed the opening if they entered the southern corridor, or crossed it to go west.

He left the camera in position and spoke quietly into his microphone, "There's someone down by the creche, I think they're inside the room, moving about but I can't see well through the smoke. Can't see any heat from bare skin though - would your agent have got the clones into armour do you think?" That would explain the scanner leakage - untrained kids and a nervous agent?

"Can't say, but I wasn't expecting her to. Would they know how to work armour? I wouldn't think Bharaputra would let them get the training."

Kimura agreed, "I don't like the idea of coming out of here in a bunch down that corridor - but we could go around the boundary wall and come at them from the east, should be able to get closer before they detect us. Or right around and from the west?"

Captain Vorpatril brought the plan up on his helmet's screen and checked, "Two possibilities - go along by the east wall and either back down the lateral corridor, and try to get close to the creche doorway, or right around by the south wall and punch through the creche's back wall and take them from the rear. If only we knew the internal situation - are the clones and agent Chenko alive under guard, or already dead? We've got to make sure one way or the other. We'll go around the outer corridor and if we can't get a better look we'll blast through from the south wall."

There were no dissenters, and time was getting short. So while Kimura kept watch they headed east down the corridor to the outer wall then turned south. As the others reached the corner, Kimura withdrew his camera and followed as quietly as possible. He joined them again where they waited before the next junction, at the east end of the corridor whose west half formed the creche's north wall.

Kimura used his little filament camera again to peek around the corner, there was a lot of background noise from the settling of the damaged structure around and above them, and through the armoured suit's headphones he couldn't hear anything very clearly - not well enough to filter out the noises of the building and recognise any quieter human sounds anyway - but there wasn't too much dust in the air, and he had a reasonably good view down the long corridor - all clear. He waved the others across.

They soon reached the south wall and turned right, checking distances with their laser sights until they were three quarters of the way along, just about at the centre of the clone creche's back wall. Kimura stopped and fixed a microphone to the wall, with a hair-thick wire running back to his enhanced helmet. After waving for them to stay quiet Kimura listened for a short time before reporting, "I'll have to drill through to get anything. Stay clear and don't jostle me, this is pretty delicate work, and I can't go very fast."

He took his gauntlets off again and rooted in his utility belt for some small tools. One was a tiny diamond tipped drill, which he used in short bursts to get through the cinder block wall, making a very small-bore hole which he then sent his filament camera through. Once he had it extended he applied a sealant around the hole to limit extraneous noise going through to the other side. Then he stood motionless for nearly a minute while the rest of them gritted their teeth with the tension before he reported back.

"There's four suited Bharaputrans in there. They seem to be searching for something, and there's four or five bodies on the floor, but they're in Bharaputran uniforms, not in armour or half armour so they look to be dead guards. There's no woman in there anyway, alive or dead - so unless the clones were dressed in guard uniforms I'd guess that these four are also looking for the clones. There's one in a different suit, plain brown and more shiny than their standard suits, might be a specialist, or an officer... I think it might be the Baron."

Vorpatril agreed that was likely.

"So, what next Captain?" Kimura asked.

"If we leave them here, then we'll have enemies behind us while we go off and look for the clones", Kimura nodded inside his helmet, "and where do we look for the clones? Suggestions please."

Werrel spoke up, "I've got a couple of demolition charges. We could throw them through the door going past or try and collapse the walls from outside, which would be trickier. A fire fight would be a lottery - five to four, so we should win but at what cost?"

Crozier agreed, "Maybe two could go ahead to scout for the clones while three of us toss in the charges and keep them pinned inside till they blow?"

Kimura suggested, "I've got a few smaller charges than Werrel's - I can set one on a timer on this wall - it'd only blow a small hole - too small for them to get out of, but enough to distract them so we can get along the cross corridor and throw the charges in - then we keep 'em pinned like Crozier says and hope Werrel's demo' charges bring the roof down. And if we get the chance, do whatever else we can to incapacitate them - don't just assume burying them will keep them pinned forever - like how we got out of the bottom of that lift shaft."

"Right. Good plan Captain Kimura. Synchronise timers and you place your small charge - we need to go quietly, so give it five minutes. Sergeant Werrel, make your preparations. I'll take Teller and scout north to the security office, and be ready to split their attention with an attack from the north if needed," Vorpatril and Teller headed west along the corridor, slowing as they neared the corner, then headed north for the security office.

The other two waited while Kimura placed his charge. He finished, replaced his gauntlets, and they followed after Ivan and Teller, rounding the corner in time to see them disappeared around the far corner to the north. Kimura's team reached the corner of the cross corridor to the clone creche and he checked his chrono, "Captain Vorpatril, we'll be starting the action in two minutes twenty seven seconds."

"Understood. We'll check the security offices as we go past. Good luck."

Kimura turned and waved his arm in his relaxed mercenary way. The other two were following Kimura along the corridor towards the creche door as Ivan reached the security office.

Bharaputra was livid! His personal guards stood back and let him have his destructive tantrum - they were getting used to his recent outbursts now, but it still set them on edge, and distracted them.

They had arrived at the creche quickly and after a cursory check along the nearby corridors for enemy troops, they'd rushed in and found the dead guards and no sign of the clones or their nanny. Bharaputra had toured the room while they examined the guards - all dead, and except for one disrupter head injury and the guard captains broken nose it looked like blunt trauma to head and neck. The armoured guards looked at Bharaputra and he looked at them, seething. Whoever had killed one guard with a disrupter, the woman could not possibly have taken out the other four armed guards and their captain by hand on her own. No, it looked like the clones must have been in on it and somehow been trained to fight.

Sergeant Verrel, heading the armoured guards knew what he wanted to do next, but by then Bharabutra's anger had taken over and he was throwing things around and pacing from one cupboard to another just pulling things out and even stamping on them; it was madness! They needed to get out of here before any further bombardment or enemy troops arrived - whether they went looking for the clones or not, staying here in this room was crazy. He sent a man to keep watch at the door, kneeling inside and part hidden, ready to fire on anyone who came down from the central ramp area. Meanwhile he and the others started a more concerted search for clues, not that he thought they'd find anything, but since they had to wait for the Baron to calm down then they might as well keep busy! They edged around, giving Bharaputra plenty of personal space.

Ivan shoved the security office door open and found a body buried under fallen rubble next to the blown out security command console - that was odd. The remains of screens, buttons and switches, some framed photos on the wall, of men posing in brown Bharaputran uniforms. Two framed certificates still on the wall and others fallen to the floor. One picture was by the dead guard's outstretched hand next to the wrecked console, as though he was reaching for it. Ivan tried not to think about that. He looked around but the place was a mess, the equipment knocked about by the damaged walls and half collapsed ceiling.

He turned to Teller and said, "Nothing much here, let's get going."

Teller didn't have room to get out of Ivan's way, so he left first and waited outside. Ivan knocked the door frame loose with the shoulder of his suit, and looked back at it accusingly.

Then they heard the sound of firing, followed by two explosions echoing down the corridor from the west corner - a bit ahead of schedule? Ivan thought. He started running and checked the mission timer, yes they'd jumped the gun by about twenty seconds. He could overhear the developing fight, though working out the details from their muffled shouts wasn't easy, he heard them scrambling away and thought how things were a lot simpler in space with a proper tactics room and com specialists to bring things to your attention when required, so you never missed things as they developed out of view.

They were building up steam mentally and physically - a contagious adrenaline rush coming through the com link as they listened to the action unfold, but before they got to halfway to the corner two armoured Bharaputran guards emerged from the central ramp, turned and headed towards them firing as they came, almost continuous plasma fire from both of them. Ivan and Teller immediately returned fire, advancing unsteadily as their suits crackled and stiffened because the shields were sucking power from the mechanical and communications systems.

Teller got a good shot in, while the enemies' aim wavered due to their own movement as they walked towards the Barrayaran officers. As the enemy got closer Ivan cried out wordlessly and dived towards them, rolling sideways and coming to rest on his back, firing upwards as the leftmost Bharaputran tried to bring his weapon to bear whilst unexpectedly slowing his pace. Ivan steadied his aim and fired up at the man's exposed right armpit, catching it perfectly. The man's shoulder ignited as the plasma punched through into the interior of the suit, turning into a furnace from which he could not escape. The end was quick for the man, Ivan told himself later, but not so quick that Ivan couldn't see his face, then and in his nightmares for months afterwards as the mouth opened in an instant of overwhelming agony before vanishing in superheated vapour, immediately followed by the power pack detonating and blasting the other Bharaputran right past Teller, knocking him from his feet. The enemy suit come to rest near the security office.

Ivan jumped up, fuelled by horror and adrenaline and pounded past Teller and before the man could recover he repeated his ploy, this time at point blank range. He looked away and had just remembered what would happen immediately after the man became cremated inside his suit... when the suit exploded, blasting Ivan straight up against the ceiling. He dropped back to the floor unconscious, unaware of the sounds coming through from Werrel and Kimura, and the beeping of his suit's low power alerts.

Lew was in the suit at last, with Guido in the other one which had a stunner, but other working weapons, hence it being left here - though it was still useful protection. Gione was checking Guido's suit while Natasha slapped the extra power pack into the rear slot of Lew's suit. She'd already checked the seals and weapons on both suits and only added the additional pack last when she was sure Guido didn't need it. There was room for three power packs on each suit as standard, but Lew's was a custom job and had the extra one for the jet pack. All the power packs were standard heavy duty high output packs with armoured casings, but that didn't protect the contacts where they slotted into the power couplings in the suit, so it was important to make sure they were well seated. Badly seated contacts could be damaged by weapons and if that caused a short out they overloaded and... Boom! There were safety options on commercial suits, but most military packs didn't have them for various reasons, including non-standardisation and certain potential glitches that could lead to power loss.

She and Gione finished the suit checks and gave the traditional slap on the arm casing, and simultaneously they heard some muffled explosions.

They looked at each other and then turned to grab their weapons and Natasha asked Lew to check for coms traffic. Meanwhile she stood still and listened for a few seconds. Good, the noise was all coming from the south side, so they might be safe to go back down a few floors without meeting the combatants.

Time for a final briefing, before Lew and Guido closed their suit's visors, "Remember to turn on the suit's shields and put them in stealth mode - but reset that if we're attacked, OK?" They both agreed, "If we meet any Bharaputran guards then Lew, you order them to go up and form a rear guard for us, OK?"

Lew nodded, then when she kept looking at him he confirmed, "Yes Natasha."

She nodded in approval, "Guido, you keep your stunner ready and if we meet any civilians, not in suits, you cover them - don't hesitate to stun them if I say, or if they try and raise the alarm, understood?"

"Yes Natasha."

"Good. Gione, you and me are their prisoners unless we meet the Barryarans, then I'll explain - and in that case, just put your hands up and surrender - unless I say otherwise, clear?"

All three confirmed agreement.

"Right, shields on, stealth on, seal up and let's move out - back the way we came and you two keep scanning to see if you can confirm if it's Barrayarans the Baron's run into, and step carefully, we don't want to make too much noise. There's no way I'm risking the Baron detecting us up here! Hopefully they'll all be too busy shooting at each other, but be alert in case someone runs our way. OK?"

Gione nodded and the other two said "Yes!" Lew too loudly though the external speaker on his suit; Guido's wasn't turned on or wasn't working.

She winced at the noise, she raised her wrist com, but realised she'd not yet retuned it.

"Turn it off!", she signalled with a sideways chopping of her hand in front of her throat, "Use hand signals like I taught you, remember? They signalled affirmative, so did Gione. She checked and tuned her wrist com to an unused com channel - she could only work out how to make it handle one channel at a time, and got the two clones to make that their main channel, and the only outgoing channel.

"Right then, follow me," she took a deep breath and gave the hand signal to follow her, and headed back through the armoury to the north exit. Just before reaching it there was a loud crash behind her and she spun, plasma rifle halfway to her shoulder before she saw Guido standing sheepishly in his suit, next to some hand weapons from a bent weapons rack; next to him Gione stood with hunched shoulders, wincing at the noise. She shook her head and turned back to the door, just about to open it when there was a much larger echoing explosion from the south side again. They all froze. Then she and Gione turned back to look and listen carefully, but it didn't sound like it had broken into the armoury area, so it must just be more fighting on the far side. Good, at least that would cover any more noise the clones might make.

She turned back and finally opened the exit door, peeked out, signalled silence again and waved the others to follow. She led them back along the aisle between desks, a few of which got bumped by the suited boys in passing, but out in the open plan office the noise coming through from the fighting on the south side was so loud she hardly noticed the clumping suits coming along behind her. As they turned left and neared the stairway at the centre of the north wall she jerked up her arm to halt them, then stepped forward and listened near the door. There was no signs other than their own foot prints, no noise that she could hear above the background noise of the fighting.

She pushed the door open and checked the stairwell, it was clear. She waved through the two suited boys, while she stood against the wall, holding the door as wide as it would go. Even so, the armoured suits were a tight squeeze - they had to stoop and slide through sideways, then they had trouble with the narrowness of the stair treads and Guido fell forward halfway down and bashed his helmet on the wall. The door had not quite shut, but the fighting over on the south side was still loud enough to cover noise of the fall.

Guido pushed himself upright again and Gione checked for damage - there was none of course, since suits were designed to protect their wearers from much heavier damage than such a short fall, though the wall was dented! Even as slow as they were Natasha decided to keep going down another floor, so they'd have more warning if Bharaputra came back down the ramp when they were on it. Lew didn't fall over, but he did loose balance twice and the metal hand rail was noticeably bent after their passage.

Two floors down they went through the exit door carefully, then across a small equipment maintenance room, between benches of disembowelled float pads and cleaning equipment - nothing of any use to them as far as Natasha could see except, "Oh!" she grabbed a small portable laser cutter in passing and stuffed inside her belt.

She got to the central shaft and as she thought the blast doors had been left open by Bharaputra - which might explain how the Barrayarans had got down to the third level. Maybe they'd just got trapped or lost and were trying for the lower exit? Well at least they were keeping Bharaputra busy!

She listened - no rush of heavy footfalls coming down the ramp yet. She waved the suited boys forward and they clumped down the ramp, back towards the garage level.

Finally the Baron's anger ran down and he stood still, watching the guards search what cupboards he hadn't already destroyed. Fools! "Stop that!" He shouted over the com link, then considered his next move, "We're going to security control and take a look at the surveillance video, see what happened here - Sergeant! Why did you not already do that? What are you waiting for! Get moving!"

The guards started moving straight away, but glanced at the sergeant. The sergeant keyed his personal link to the point man at the door, "Move out carful Orin, and stay cool. The Baron's just angry so don't let him rattle you. Keep your eyes peeled eh?"

Orin shuffled forward as the others ordered themselves behind, the Baron barely controlling his impatience. Orin checked the east corridor to the right first, then he turned and stepped left around the door frame into the corridor - Wham - he was blown backwards by a point-blank heavy plasma blast! Then the rear wall exploded, throwing cinder fragments across the room - the enemy must be trying to hit them from both sides at once - they needed to get out of this dead end!

The others had turned towards the explosion, not knowing which threat to face - even the Baron was indecisive, but Verrel knew the Baron had never been in combat. The sergeant pulled Orin back out of the doorway, then moved up to the opening himself, plasma arc and personal missile launcher fully live, and on the hair trigger. He saw the flicker of a shadow and let go a burst of plasma to rebound from the opposite wall, then stuck his right arm out and fired two short range homing missiles along the west corridor. It was a gamble because their guidance and trigger had a half second delay to prevent them detonating on launch.

The missiles exploded virtually simultaneously and Sergeant Verrel edged around the door, firing his plasma arc left again before leaning out to take a look. He was hit hard on the head by something heavy and toppled forwards into the corridor. All he got was a glimpse of armoured boots by his head, twisting away and making a run for it. He fired from his prone position at the fleeing figure, and hosed the plasma around at another suited enemy, also fleeing. Belatedly he levered himself up high enough and sent another two missiles after the enemy, but they got around the corner before the little rockets reached them; the missiles failed to make the sharp turn and detonated against the western boundary wall. From the brief glimpse he'd caught before the last two missiles exploded, it looked as though one of his first missiles had hit that wall as well, and the other had exploded against this corridor's south wall half way along.

He struggled to his feet and looked back into the room. The was confusion - Orin and Gorm were pushing the Baron ahead of them in some sort of panic. What the hell? Then the two Barrayaran heavy charges exploded and the three armoured figures were blown straight at Verrel, knocking him off his feet again, back across the corridor to then be buried by the other three suits, and half a demolished wall and ceiling.

Kimura led the two Barrayarans along the cross corridor towards the creche entrance. Werrel had his charges set and was approaching from behind, when the Bharaputran guard looked out, right at them. Kimura immediately fired at point-blank range and blew the guard back into the creche, then he stepped aside and waved Werrel forward.

Werrel was continuing towards the door when Kimura was hit by the Bharaputran return fire, bounced off the corridor wall opposite the door and fell under Werrel's feet. Werrel kept hold of the packs as he went down a few metres short of the doorway. Before he could get up again two missiles passed right over his back, one of them bounced off the opposite wall and then detonated half way down the south wall, next to Crozier, the other missile exploded against the far west wall.

Werrel got to his feet and stepped forward almost colliding with the enemy sergeant as he stuck his head out of the doorway again. Werrel used all his weight to drag the fellow forwards out of the doorway, and as he fell to the floor, Werrel jumped on his back, swung the heavy explosive packs through the door, into the group of other suited Bharaputrans inside.

He didn't wait around to see what they did about it, he just pushed off the doorframe and ran like hell, back the way they'd come. He grabbed the staggering Dendarii captain's arm and dragged him towards the corner as plasma fire washed around them, making their suit shields snap and crackle through the coms static. Crozier bounced off the west wall just ahead of them, having some difficulty controlling his armoured suit.

As the three of them got their balance again and turned the corner to head north up the side corridor after Vorpatril and Teller the wall behind them exploded and they were thrown forwards, Crozier falling on his face and Werrel and Kimura staggering past him, Werrel pushing off from Kimura's arm allowing them both to bounce off the side walls and regain their balance.

They looked back and saw the flash then heard the explosion and felt the reverberations as the two big explosive charges detonated. Then another explosion, or maybe an echo from the north. Dust and smoke billowed out of the cross corridor from the direction of the creche.

Werrel waved at Kimura, "Go join Captain Vorpatril, I'll help the Lieutenant."

But Kimura pushed back from the wall, "No sergeant. We need to go back and see if we got them. They should at least be disoriented and if that suit I saw was Bharaputra himself, we might be able to finish him off, which is our secondary objective. Besides, I don't like leaving enemies behind me!"

Werrel had pulled Crozier up onto his feet while he listened to this. The Dendarii might be a Captain, and an experienced soldier, but he wasn't in Werrel's chain of command, "Lieutenant? Lieutenant Crozier, how are you doing - what are your instructions sir? Go back or go on and join Captain Vorpatril?"

Crozier was pretty dazed, having caught most of the two plasma bursts from the Bharaputran and in between that he'd seen one missile come almost straight at his face, missing him by centimetres, then another one ricocheted off the other wall and hit right next to him, blasting his suit around like a toy, from one wall to the other and coming to rest metres back down the corridor. His ears were still ringing and the sergeant voice sounded like it was coming down a well, faint and echoing around inside his skull. Go back there again? He could ask Captain Vorpatril, but was reluctant to do so. He tried to gather his thoughts, What had Kimura said about their objectives? Primary was getting the clones, secondary was not even their team's objective, since Baron Bharaputra should be back at his main base being attacked by Fell's team, but that plan was history, so Bharaputra was a secondary objective clear enough. Yes, they had to go back. He really would rather run in the other direction, but his duty was clear. They had this one chance to get the better of the enemy while they were, hopefully buried and vulnerable. If they could be sure they'd killed Baron Bharapuutra, and Kimura had thought the shiny brown suit was the Baron, then they should do it. It wasn't a very honourable sort of war this - well, more of a skirmish than a war really. Not much glory, but it was proper fighting, real battle experience where he could show his command ability.

"We go back, quick as you can sergeant, don't wait for me I think my suit's a bit glitchy, but I'll be right behind you. As the actress said to the bishop!"

The sergeant barked a laugh out at the feeble joke and spun on his heel and started back at a lumbering jog, plasma arc held ahead as he rounded the corner reaching full pelt and leaning over he shouted, "Geronimo!" that ancient Earth battle cry.

Kimura hesitated, he felt isolated inside his helmet, with no Dendarii comrades at his back, but he started moving.

Crozier huffed after him, swallowing his pride and trying to find a good rhythm in the unaccustomed suit. He'd done all the training, but this was his first real combat and the suit was one of the new ones, and glitchy now, having a slight activator delay on the left side that was very distracting.

Kimura shook his head and muttered, "Bloody gung ho part timers!" he chuckled, "Reminds me of the Admiral - Naismith that is," he breathed heavily as he got the suits armoured legs pumping, overcoming the momentum of the heavy carapace to get his rhythm started as he followed the mad Barrayaran sergeant around the corner.

They'd dug Timmons out, and helped him out onto the corridor, where Jennings was checking some damage on his suit when the floor shook.

"Explosion below sir!" Pyrios informed Hammond.

"Right. I'll take a turn at digging while Clemens checks Lessing. How much more rubble is there?"

"Garring, take a spell watching those corridors. If you could pass it up and out sir, Jennings can pile it outside. Sounds like there's fighting going on down there. Could be the Captain and his ImpSec crew Colonel."

"You could be right Sergeant - if it is fighting and not just gas or chemicals exploding. I still can't raise anyone else. The briefing didn't mention it, but I think this facility must be shielded - which makes sense when you think about it."

Pyrios paused with a big lump of plascrete in his hand, "Secret facility, paranoid Jacksonian... I see what you mean sir."

The Colonel took the boulder from the Sergeant and the digging continued.

Teller picked himself up and looked around - well, no need to check the two Bharaputrans - they'd literally been blown to pieces! He turned to where Ivan lay face down - and inert. "Oh shit!" He walked over and bent down to turn his superior's suit over, afraid at what he might see.

Captain Vorpatril wasn't moving and there was blood smeared over the inside of the visor. Teller couldn't read the tell tales from outside the helmet, but he could see faint reflections and tried to work out which coloured glows were the important medical alerts for serious injuries including heart and brain activity and internal organ failures. He compared the positions in his own helmet, which was the same make though a different model. Well, unless they'd changed things drastically the red lights flashing were from the suit malfunction area, and the two tiny yellow flashing glows were the medical ones - so the captain was probably unconscious and hurting but not dying.

What should he do now? They had left the medic back with the main team when they dived down the utility shaft, so Colonel Hammond and the medics might all be dead by now, and he had no idea about shuttle evacuation either. Teller couldn't carry the captain alone with his suit on, and the others were still fighting Baron Bharaputra around the corner, so it wasn't a good time to take the suit off. He could stay here and listen to the others being pounded or leave Captain Vorpatril, go and help and hope one of them survived to come back and help the Captain afterwards. He hesitated another moment, looking at Ivan's battered face, slack and even in unconsciousness carrying the signs of worry.

Teller turned away and got up, took a breath and got his legs going west to the corner and south towards the others. The static had cleared now and he could hear them discussing something as he rounded the next corner and pounded forward, towards an odd melee outside the demolished creche doorway.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Natasha was really annoyed. To get so close and have to turn back! There were two or three Bharaputrans coming up the ramp, she'd felt the additional footfalls and heard noises coming up past the two boys in their suits ahead and had to dodge around and wave them to halt - not wanting to use her wrist com unit in case the unshielded transmission source showed up. She had to get Lew to open his faceplate so she could whisper instructions to listen in on the Bharaputran's com channel without them detecting it. Another thing she'd forgotten when the fighting above rushed their escape - and he'd need those channels working soon anyway - where was her head at? This must be what panicking felt like. In all her years she'd never felt that before, only some pale imitation, not the real deep certainty of mortal disaster closing in and her inability to stop or avoid it.

"Back up," she whispered, "keep listening and try and work out where they're going and why, and where they came from - outside I guess."

Lew nodded and pulled the face plate down till the auto close mechanism engaged. Natasha heard the hiss as it sealed, then they were going back up, her in the lead again and the two suited boys walking quickly but quietly behind. Quietly but easily detected this close by the thumping you could feel through thin slippers like she and Gione were wearing. She'd seen the uniform boots both outside and inside the suiting up room, discarded as the men scrambled into their suits when the whole mess started less than an hour ago - but they'd have been too big for her, and messed up the prisoner ploy too.

With difficulty she refocused on the opening ahead as they reached the fourth level, counting down from the upper, first underground level of course. She'd found the reverse numbering difficult at first, never having lived underground before. Focus! There was less debris near the exit on the fourth level, and they headed out into the cross corridor, and east along it, as fast as they could go to the east wall, then around the corner into the long north-south corridor and stopped.

Natasha lay on the floor and edged her head around the corner again to watch for anyone coming out, while Lew opened his face plate and whispered, "It sounds like they got messed up outside when a ship crashed or blew up or something, just about when the Baron got here I think. They withdrew inside because their coms failed and they thought the enemy were wiped out, so they wanted to get in and see if the security centre com unit was still working and they could call for help or organise the resistance or something. They're saying two of them should have got there by now but they can't raise them anymore - maybe those are the one's that're fighting up above? Anyway there's two of them coming up, carrying an another one that's injured - they're headed up to the third level to the security centre."

Natasha turned her head back, "Good work Lew. Keep listening and let me know when they're past us, then we can go down - I just hope there aren't any more coming up!" She turned back to watch down the corridor towards the ramp, but there was nothing to see. Nothing much to hear either except for the noisy fight continuing on the level above, where the Bharaputrans were heading.

Ivan began to come around, God but he had a headache! What had happened? He couldn't seem to remember and felt a rising panic, he was in a cryo chamber and waking up, they must have forgotten to freeze him! He tried to lift his hands and felt the press of padded sleeves, what was this? Then he noticed the little flashing lights near his chin, some sort of warnings? The cryo chamber must be malfunctioning and he'd been woken up before they'd had chance to fix whatever was wrong with him - a head wound by the feel of it. He gritted his teeth against the panic and helplessness and tried moving his legs. The same things happened - he was strapped down! His situation began to dawn on him when he looked beyond the smeared faceplate, and that was another thing - why hadn't they cleaned him up...

Oh. The sight of the ceiling brought it all back. He was in the Bharaputra complex and he'd managed to blow himself up. The memories came back in a high pressure rush, almost making him black out again. That had been really stupid! How could he have done that? Maybe he could claim he was suffering from shock or something. Vortigan would be scathing. He'd better leave that for now though, and get this bloody suit working again. He managed to get the heads-up display back. It looked like the suit had shut down and reinitialised after the explosion, so he had so bring it online again. He soon found out about the damage to the power pack. There was nothing he could do about that, not being double jointed. The suit wouldn't have allowed it anyway. The power level was well into the red, too low for more than a few seconds of powered movement. He was well and truly trapped in this can! His coms were offline too, which was probably antenna damage or maybe a broken connection somewhere. He felt a sudden rush of panic again before getting the environmental display up - the air feed was on a basic setting but still running, no pain relief or other active medical functions were working but at least he wouldn't suffocate!

He began a more organised assessment of the remaining functions and decided he'd work out a couple of plans before moving anything, since he'd be lucky if he could get the suit open before all power died and he became a prisoner in the thing.

Werrel pounded towards the pile of rubble and confusion of armoured limbs piled next to where the creche door had been, there were some uncoordinated movements already. He began firing his plasma arc on the run, trying to keep it on a single suit and get a burn through before they could move. Crozier was firing too from behind him, but wildly, either because he couldn't get a clear shot or because he wasn't thinking, "Watch your fire lieutenant or you'll..."

Then the ceiling collapsed, enveloping the scene in great cloud of grey dust before Werrel could get there. At least he'd not been caught in the collapse. He skidded to a halt and bumped into a big chunk of plascrete on the floor.

Werrel switched on his high beams, shining blindingly out from the sides of his helmet - and experienced a white-out. He turned the lights off again, and activated his infra red and doppler scans - nothing yet but the dust was beginning to settle.

The other two came up at his sides and the com unit came on in stereo mode, Crozier left and Kimura right.

"Well, that's one solution." Kimura commented sarcastically.

"Wasn't that what we were trying to do anyway, bury them? I saw the chance and took it!" Said Crozier, in annoyance.

"It's good enough for now Lieutenant, but we need to finish them off and if we can't get at them... Well, once this dust clears we can pull them out and deal with them one at a time - but it'll be slow work. Maybe we should ask Captain Vorpatril?"

Crozier had thought he'd pulled off a minor coup, only to have his victory snatched from him! Still, Kimura had a point really - now they'd be even more delayed. He decided it was time to inform the Captain, time to choose overall priorities. The Bharaputrans were temporarily incapacitated, probably for several minutes at least, so they could all go after the clones and maybe get them out before the Bharaputrans caught up.

He selected Captain Vorpatrils direct channel, "Captain? Captain Vorpatril sir, are you listening to this?" No response, just some heavy breathing and, he felt something through his feet and brought up the proximity display, saw that Teller was approaching but the captain had stayed further north near the security offices. He wondered if they'd found something. Why wasn't the Captain answering?

Teller's breathless voice informed them, "The Captain's down, back there. I think he's just unconscious, but I can't get a link through to his suit, it's damaged," he slowed to a halt as he reached them, breathing heavily and continued, "Two Bharaputrans jumped us and he got hit bad; an explosion when he took them down - he was good though, kept his head... apart from the last explosion, because he was too close. What's happened here, did you get them all?"

Werrel was keeping an enhanced eye on their quarry with infra red and doppler - still no movement. He' could watch their backs while the officers decided what to do next.

Kimura joined the discussion, "They're buried good, but until we can see them again we're not sure. How bad is Captain Vorpatril?"

Crozier was still trying to get a response using other channels but asked Teller, "Damn it! I can't raise anything, just the locator. What sort of damage to his suit? Power? Air?"

"It had power and what I could see inside seemed like the medical telemetry was working, but he was unconscious," Teller explained, "I couldn't do anything for him without getting the suit open and it's too dangerous yet. That's why came to see if you needed help - once we finish these ones off we can all go help him."

Crozier calmed down, "No, you were right Lieutenant Teller. Look, I got hit myself, and I'm still a bit woozy too, OK? Captain Kimura, what are your thoughts - I know you've been in combat against Bharaputrans before. Advice please, time's a factor here."

Kimura bit his tongue on any criticism, "Thank you." He paused, muttering to himself, "Order things Kimura," then louder, "I only have three anti-personnel charges left, and they'd need to be placed close in, to be effective. Do you know how to use them?" He removed one of the small shaped explosive charges from his hip pack and held it out to the lieutenant. They were standard equipment, but the Barrayarans weren't real combat troops, just security officers along for the ride.

Crosier examined the small disk shaped charge. He'd seen something like it before, and knew the theory, but he'd never used one himself and was pretty sure Teller hadn't either, "Sergeant Werrel, can you set these?"

Werrel turned, he'd obviously been listening and half expecting the enquiry. He took the charge and flicked his lights on a lower power setting than before, "What's the rating Captain Kimura? Are the controls the same as the X-15?"

"Yes, rated Fifteen hundred, same controls but accelerated burn rate is all."

Werrel turned to Crozier, "Well Lieutenant, I'd say two of us here and two go back and help the Captain. If you can get him up come back here and help before we go after the clones again. If not we'll decide when we know the situation better. Might have to dump the suit and abort the mission unless we can get a trace on those clones. Do you agree?"

Crozier was still feeling groggy, though the recent adrenaline had cleared his head somewhat. "Yes, I think that's all we can do. Who's best with suit maintenance, I've not had any training beyond the basic operation and combat course."

Teller confirmed he was at the same level.

Werrel put the small charge into his own hip pack and held his hand out to Kimura for the rest, "I've got a good understanding but I'm guessing the Captain here knows more - am I right sir?"

Kimura pulled out the other two charges and handed them over, "Probably more recent anyway - I had the advanced maintenance course two years ago as part of my continuing training program, before I got promoted. I haven't used it since, because I got assigned to intelligence full time after that. You're right Sergeant, I'd better go and look for myself. Lieutenant Crozier? How are you feeling? You're the officer in charge of this fuck up now."

"Right. We'll go and check the Captain. Teller, you'd better stay here and help Sergeant Werrel dispose of the Bharaputrans."

Lieutenant Crozier turned away and they got moving towards the damaged west wall. The adrenaline had seeped away and they were moving at walking pace until Crozier speeded up again, and they disappeared around the corner and towards the security office.

Teller wasn't happy - it seemed like he was always reacting, not taking command of any situation. What they said made more sense than any plan he could come up with however, so he moved closer to Werrel, "You'd better show me how those work Sergeant."

"Yes sir." Werrel had the first of them in his hand, resting in the upturned palm of the armoured glove and he began pointing out the controls as he set them, giving his run down on how to set it for suit penetration. Next they took one each and Werrel watched as he set it himself. It wasn't hard, just a set of simple steps, but the controls were fiddly in gauntlets.

Then Werrel's suit sounded an alarm - the microwave doppler sensor had been keeping track of the rubble pile and was alerting him to some non-random movement indicating a possible human cause. They scanned for com traffic nearby and found some originating inside the pile, the source shifting very slightly, so they were trying to extricate themselves and Teller caught a glimpse of a smooth brown suit carapace.

The dust was settling enough that they could see the full extent of the pile, going right up to a raggedly circular hole in the ceiling, where a flickering light could be seen on the level above. Maybe they could get out to the shuttles? Maybe Colonel Hammond was up there and they could link up and get a pick up organised!

Kimura reached Ivan's suit first. He'd spotted as soon as he came around the corner, surrounded by what he recognised as pieces of the enemy soldier and suit fragments. He could see more junk up the central corridor towards the elevator area that must be the remains of the other enemy. Pretty good work by Vorpatril, apart from getting messed up himself.

He knelt by the Ivan's suit and looked into the helmet. The visor was blood spattered and fogged, but he could see some lights reflected from the face inside and the captain's eyes were open, blinking, and he was talking but nothing came through the com channel. Kimura checked and the transmitter was stone dead. He rooted in his hip pack and came out with a contact adhesive microphone, a simple encrypted communicator, or listening device depending on the internal switch setting. He pulled the oversize tag to remove the protective strip from the adhesive base - he'd had to add an extra tag so he could do that in gauntlets and he was glad of it - the first time he'd used it on a mission since thinking of it three years earlier. He slapped the transmitter onto the side of Vorpatril's helmet and switched through his channels to the low range band and sent the code to activate it as a communicator.

"Captain, can you hear me?"

"Yes! Oh God I thought you'd left me!" Vorpatril spluttered.

"Don't worry Captain, the situation's under control - still dangerous but not lost yet. I'm going to flip you over and check the damage, is your air still OK?"

Ivan nodded and answered, "Yes." still shakily, "Go ahead."

Crozier helped Kimura and they got the suit rolled over after pushing the right arm out of the way, against the torso. The casing on the back pack was cracked and looking up at the ceiling Kimura wasn't surprised. On the way back down his eyes noticed the door in the adjacent wall had a coded panel on it and remembered from the map of the facility that the door should lead to the the security guards' armoury. He looked away again, but thought he might find a use for the knowledge shortly. A closer examination of the back pack showed considerable damage. He couldn't pop the cover because the coded lock was smashed and wrenching it about would probably do even more harm, possibly causing an environment malfunction which could be fatal. What he could see was that the main power cell had fractured and leaked at the time of impact, causing other damage and melting it in place. Luckily it had not actually exploded. The weapons power pack was damaged too, looked like the contacts were bent, which could also have been catastrophic if it had caused a short across them. The weapons power must have discharged over time, judging by the fusing around those contacts. So the suit was basically dead. No way he could see to repair it without tools and parts - which is where an armoury would come in handy.

"Stand back lieutenant while I have a look in here - this should be their armoury and I might be able to find something useful in there."

The lieutenant got up and backed away, belatedly asking, "What are you..?"

Kimura blew the door out with his plasma arc on full power. That was a bit of a risk, but he didn't think he had time to be overly carful, because he'd just received a proximity alert from two sources. His own passive sensor array and a heads-up from Werrel that more Bharaputrans were coming up the central ramp.

"Eyes on the ramp exit Lieutenant - looks like there's company on the way! I'll only be a minute in here, whether I find anything or not." He walked over to the shattered door, bashed the remaining metal fragments out of the way, letting them fall off the tortured hinges and shouldered into the smokey room behind. It was a small maintenance room, with wall benches and testing equipment - through the open door into the next room he found the suit store, though there were no spare suits or backpacks anywhere he could see, and no time to go looking further afield, he found what he'd been looking for almost immediately on another work bench against the wall. He paused for a second and examined the surface, seeing the marks in the fallen dust, showing recent signs of activity amongst the tools strewn about the bench top, there were boot marks and smaller foot prints leading away and out the far exit too. Then Werrel triggered his explosives.

No time! He grabbed the power packs, and a cutter and other equipment he wanted as he passed back through the maintenance room, back to the Captain. Good, the Bharaputrans hadn't arrived yet, though they'd be here in less than a minute.

Again he knelt by the motionless suit and dropped the tools and power packs next to it. He took his right gauntlet off and adjusted the setting on the laser cutter.

"What are you doing captain?" asked Crozier.

"Trying to get his suit powered up again! Now get your eyes back down there! The locals will be coming out in fifty seconds and I need time to work here." Nevertheless he turned for a moment and looked over at the young officer, who had turned back, looking along the corridor towards the central ramp. He was standing right in the middle of the floor, braced with his plasma arc up and ready.

Kimura glanced at the nearby corner, pity Crozier was also right handed. Couldn't use the corner for cover, but a bit further down... "Get further up and kneel inside that doorway Lieutenant, you'll have some cover and be at a better angle too."

Crozier looked back and hesitated. Kimura waved him towards the doorway, "The odds are bad enough without standing out in the open Lieutenant. If you can draw their fire it'll give me more time here. You'll do fine."

Kimura turned back and dropped the young Lieutenant from his mind to concentrate on the suit repairs. He got the cutter working and started getting the innards exposed, being careful not to cut too deep and do more damage than he had to. He got the main power pack loose and checked the coupling and contacts for damage. They looked OK and he quickly touched the test rig contacts to the surrounding back plate - the display showed no reading, good, no internal shorts, so it should be safe. He took one of the spare packs and carefully pushed it in, gritting his teeth - not that that would help if there was an internal short. No explosion and no heating up that he could detect. The suit beeped quietly and the captain's arm moved. That would have to do. Kimura selected the auxiliary channel and asked, "Is your power coming up OK Captain?"

"Yes, what was that explosion?" asked Vorpatril breathlessly.

Kimura thought how he'd have felt trapped in a suit in enemy territory, "Werrel dealing with Baron Bharaputra I hope. Now hold still just a few more seconds Captain." While he placed the cover back on and welded it messily in place as some protection against physical damage. He could see some sparking in there which he didn't like, but there wasn't anything he could do about it, except ask, "What does your damage control say about the suit's condition?"

Ivan had begun to calm down again now his suit was powering up again. He brought up the more detailed heads-up displays and checked for where the worst damage was before answering, "Suit power's back again, thanks! Environment is up, but medical's dead along with weapons and... Shit! Shields are very low and variable, there's something wrong there."

Ivan managed to get his left arm moving, but the right seemed to be having power control issues and only moved fitfully. Well, his plasma arc was dead anyway, so not being able to aim it wasn't important. What he didn't like was that he was now a combat liability - someone the others would have to shield and maybe wait for unless... Good, his legs were working all right and he got to his feet just as there was an explosion somewhere - a group of Bharaputrans came around the corner down the hallway and started looking around. Ivan froze, but it was no good.

Kimura was up and running towards the enemy with his external speakers playing some sort of classical music, ancient and almost familiar to Ivan. He that saw Crosier was kneeling in the security office doorway that he and Teller had inspected earlier. Why was that important? He noticed the other blasted doorway - the armoury! He leapt towards it and turned his helmet lights on full, scanning around urgently. Workshop, then through into a suit room, not what he wanted. He pounded across it to the far side and smashed that door off it's hinges. Yes! The armoury - not much left in fact, but still a couple of plasma rifles and best of all a hand held rocket launcher! He grabbed it up, loaded a rocket into it, tucked another under his left arm and rushed back through to the corridor again and towards the action.

Looking through the targeting viewer he tried to work out who was who in the melee up ahead.

Kimura had got right up to them and started wresting one of Bharaputrans the to the ground, another one was trying to get a shot at Kimura without hitting his comrade. The third guard just stood as though frozen in fear, not even trying to fire at Ivan. He may have warned his friend though because the second man shifted his aim up as Ivan triggered the rocket launcher and dived to the side, knocking chunks out of the side wall when he bounced off, wincing as he thought about the potential for damaging Kimura's repairs.

He watched in half blinded fascination as shadows from the rocket's bright flame darted around before the rocket hit the second Bharaputran and blew him apart. It almost seemed as though it had blown two suits apart, but that must have been the shadow disappearing around the wall of the central shaft. The missile's effectiveness wasn't surprising, since the Bharaputran weapons would be security biased; anti-personnel rather than general explosives. It had been a penetrating warhead by the way it blew him apart from the inside out. The third guard was blown backwards against the wall, toppled over and didn't get up. Ivan shook his head, was he seeing double? Kimura had also been blown aside and his opponent bounced back from the far wall and went for the Dendarii straight off - Kimura must have shielded him from the rocket's explosion.

Ivan was already running to help him when he heard Crozier behind him, shouting, "Get down!" Ivan guessed the reason, dropped the empty launcher and spare rocket, threw himself forward and slid on his front for several metres, ripping rumpled carpet tiles loose and obscuring his view annoyingly.

He heard the bangs and crackles as Crozier pumped pulse after blinding pulse into the Bharaputran at diminishing range as he walked slowly forward, keeping the aim tight and praying his weapon cell's power depletion wouldn't extend the recharge time too much.

Ivan stayed prone, but pulled the carpet out of his face and increased the de-mist setting, to clear it in time to be blinded by the explosion of the enemy guard. Ivan was panting in a welter of pent up emotion as he waited for his vision to clear again.

He nearly had a heart attack when Crozier grabbed his arm to help haul him back to his feet. Even his ears seemed to have been overwhelmed, because he had to ask Crozier to repeat his report.

"The Captain's alright sir! That other one's disabled, so I've left him for now. I saw something a minute ago - another Bharaputran, and Werrel's confirmed that the Baron's loose somewhere. I think it was him, sir, just when you blew that one away!"

Ivan looked around in a daze, Kimura was doing something to the surviving Bharaputran, but seemed uninjured himself. Ivan staggered over to him, his left leg was dragging a bit and his suit temperature was climbing noticeably. He spoke aloud, uncertain if he could be heard or not.

"Captain Kimura, what are you doing?"

Kimura had flipped the Bharaputran on his front and broken into the back pack to get at the power pack. He was about to throw it further down the corridor when he changed his mind and put it in his hip pack and got up.

"Just immobilising him. His suit was already damaged you know? I've shut off his coms but he has enough residual charge to keep his suit going for a few hours." He thought about that and looked around, "Hm," he knelt and took the man's gauntlets off, "either his friends'll find him or he'll get out of that himself. Either way he's no threat to us. Concussed as well I think."

"Right then. Good job! Both of you - glad you came along Captain Kimura. Now can either of you get the others online? My coms are screwed!"

"We still have to get to the clones," Kimura pointed out, "and if Bharaputra's gone after them we'd best get going."

"Wait, what? You know where they are?" Asked Ivan.

Kimura was talking on his com unit, "Werrel? Yeah we're by the ramp... Yeah, good work - except for the Baron eh?"

Ivan couldn't hear the other side of the conversation but he got the gist and started after Kimura, with Crozier at his side, until they pulled ahead because he couldn't get his left leg moving properly. He tried exaggerating his leg movements and achieved a reasonably fast, if uneven walk, but the others were still pulling ahead. He shouted after them, still a bit deaf from the most recent blast, "You two keep going! My suits glitching so I can't keep up! Go get the clones! Or kill Bharaputra," he muttered, "Whatever," and just concentrated on keeping his legs moving, as he got more out of breath from the additional effort the uneven rhythm demanded - and hot, and... Just what he needed - dizzy. He couldn't even see their shadows anymore. He couldn't steer properly because of balance problems from his uneven gait, so he attempted to bounce off the curving walls with as little slowing as possible. Ivan thought Miles must have felt something like this in his leg braces, on the basic training runs - except Miles couldn't look forward to getting out of a glitchy shell at the end of the race.

Werrel had set the fuses for remote triggering, and reached through the rubble to place two charges, then saw the suit they'd been looking for when a shiny brown surface shifted under the other two. He couldn't reach far enough and dropped the last charge, but it landed well enough and the telltale light came on as the sticky field activated. Then just as he pulled back, satisfied, the suit shifted again and it was scraped off to slide down into the shadows beneath. Then his heads-up display flashed. He saw some other nearby coms sources and realised they'd made a really bad mistake. He warned Kimura they should expect company, and shouted for Teller to get back and followed him around the adjacent corner and about ten metres along the corridor towards the ramp, and hunched down in the corner between wall and floor.

Werrel sent the signal to remotely trigger the charges and all three exploded simultaneously. Then the roof caved in right on top of them. They were pinned beneath, but not too badly. Teller's suit had a damaged activator on the right leg. While they were trying to push rubble off, they heard Crozier's plasma fire and more explosions from nearby. Then Kimura and Crozier came on to say they'd got the Captain safe, and dealt with some Bharaputrans, but Kimura had seen a brown suit go past while they were too busy to stop him.

Werrel clumped back along the corridor to look, and he could see the broken pieces of two suits, with bloodied limbs visible, but they were normal Bharaputran guards suits - there was no sign the shiny brown suit in the scattered rubble. He explained to the others about the loose explosive charge and they surmised that the explosion must have freed the Baron without damaging his suit badly.

By the time Werrel had helped Teller to the top of the ramp they were a good two minutes behind the others and with Teller's dodgy leg were unlikely to catch up. Werrel also had some other proximity warnings from his scanners. The signals were coming from the floor above but the intervening floor and electrical shorting must be interfering with his sensor somehow, because it couldn't tell him who's they were; they could be friendlies, but he couldn't get any coms through and couldn't wait around to find out - they still had two objectives, neither of which they had achieved. Werrel gritted his teeth and kept helping Teller along for the moment. He might have to leave him if the others caught up with Bharaputra and needed help, but for now he wanted to avoid leaving anyone behind if he could possibly avoid it.

Baron Luigi Bharaputra pounded down the ramp. He'd finally worked it out. It had come as a moment of blinding clarity, an epiphany that astounded and embarrassed him. As he lay trapped and impotent under all that rubble, an unexpected calmness had settled over him and by degrees he'd seen his mistake. It had taken his own recent experience of what he now accepted as madness to gain the insight that shone a light on the diminutive Natasha's true nature.

He digressed for a few precious seconds in pointless contemplation on the punishments he would visit upon Doum. He would literally crucify him! No, he'd strap him in a chair and wind his guts out in full view on an ancient roller. No he'd... Better get a grip! Natasha was obviously an agent for someone, either Fell or his new allies, and she'd been slipped in past Doum - and that wouldn't have been possible without his complicity. Before she became a trusted servant of the inner compound she'd have to have gone through a fast-penta interrogation, well before coming to this facility, that would have been no formality. Should not have been a formality anyway, unless someone in authority helped make it so - and Doum was the only surviving one... Wait! No, she'd joined the inner compound staff just around, or before the time things had really started to go bad hadn't she?

Cavilo had brought the information about Vorkosigan, and the Barrayaran samples a decade earlier and negotiated to have a pair of clones started. That had been the Deal. He would grow the clones and start their indoctrination in return for the samples, which might prove useful in other ways after all. She also gave payment which covered the basic costs, which he now thought a clever ploy to throw him off her deeper plans. It had made her seem somewhat naive. Since they both wanted revenge, there had seemed no real need to do it - not that he'd felt any urge to point that out to her. He now realised it had confused his thinking, and at such a relatively small price, compared to what must have been the prize she sought.

Although his initial ambition had simply been revenge, on Vorkosigan and his Emperor, Cavilo had planted the idea of expanding his influence, controlling an empire. His own dynasty built from cloned devotees of his own mind if, initially not his own body. Something Emperor Gregor Vorbarra would never have envisaged. Something even Bharaputra hadn't envisaged before the concentrated megalomania of Cavilo had taken root in his mind, buoyed up by her sexual favours and fertilised by the unproven jealousy of the ageing Lotus. Certainly Lotus had developed the cerebral virus against Fell at Cavilo's suggestion, and with his agreement.

Yes, Lotus... maybe he should have let her new clone survive, but he was tiring of her constant griping and sniping, how she'd do things, why he should give her more control over the development of genetic research into life extension treatments. Why should he? He had many years of life and she was under his control as long as she did not. And he had outlived both of them, temporarily.

Even so, Lotus's treachery didn't make sense in isolation. She must have succumbed to some trickery, and from what had been said in the later arguments, he was sure Cavilo must have planted lies about him in Lotus's mind. Then after Cavilo had been killed his security captain had found evidence on her com unit unit. It'd all been too late to save him though.

He was now more certain than ever that Cavilo had been behind Lotus infecting him with the Fell virus. He'd insisted on the development of the virus even over Lotus's objection - he still thought she had harboured a sentimental soft spot for Georish Stauber, a weakness. Cavilo had never displayed such weakness, and he was now sure she'd been training him like a falcon, to set on her enemies with no intention that he should survive to reap the benefits.

Lotus had warned him and even taken the decision for him, infecting Cavilo with that disgusting fungus! He shivered at the memory of the little mercenary bitch puking her lungs up and rotting in front of his eyes - though he kept his distance. By the time he returned the medical staff had everything thoroughly disinfected, some of the furnishings taken away and incinerated. He could still make himself feel ill remembering the onset when Cavilo had gone into convulsions in his private lounge.

Luigi came back to the present with a jolt when his proximity alarm bleated as he neared the fifth level, two above the basement garage - so he was in time! He grinned in anticipation and checked his weapon's status: still fully charged and only one mini-missile ejected due to damage when the roof collapsed earlier.

It had to be the clones. Two suited figures and two unsuited. A sudden thought set his pulse racing even faster and he activated his master control suite, scanning for the other suit. It was there! Shit, shit, shit! It wouldn't accept the override! His naivety astounded him. The blindness of two lifetimes' supremacy had caught up with him again! The suits accepted genetic identity as absolute authority and he'd never thought to add any additional security to guard against a living genetic twin taking control of his own equipment! With difficulty he put his anger aside and slowed his steps, what else might he have forgotten?

He had four enemies ahead of him, and could not assume they were ignorant of his approach. How good was his clone's control of the suit or it's special features? How good was Natasha bloody Greeling, if that was even her real name? Of course it wasn't! She was a professional even more subtle and envious than Cavilo! But she was not in a suit! Her arrogance was her weakness, shared with the equally diminutive Cavilo, and 'admiral' Naismith - or Vorkosigan. What was it about shitty little dwarves that made them so dangerous? Probably a lifetime of inferiority!

He approached the exit to the fifth level with extreme caution as he prepared for his attack.

Kimura could feel things slipping away from him again. What he wouldn't give to have the little Admiral here! Concentrate Kimura! This was the end game now, everything to play for and still a fighting chance. His eyes slid sideways, thinking of what support he could expect from Crozier. Not a bad junior officer, if unseasoned. What had the Barrayarans been thinking? Two young lieutenants and a - alright Captain Vorpatril wasn't that bad for an amateur, and all planetary so-called professional forces night as well be amateurs, the amount of experience they got outside war. Still, he was the admiral's cousin and certainly had guts and heart, if not an over abundance of sense, or perhaps just not enough experience. To be fair, the Admiral was one of a kind. Even Quinn came second to Naismith.

OK, crunch time. Crozier was OK. He'd back Kimura up if he was led into it and there were no real decisions to make. Vorpatril himself, as well as Teller and the more reliable Werrel were coming up behind; his scanner's situation display seemed to be catching up now.

Concentrate! Golden moment, as in don't miss it! He took a extra-deep breath and tilted forwards, shouting "Come ON!" and hoping Crozier would follow and back him up. This was the last time - he promised the gods of fate that he'd retire after this one and spend his old age supporting worthy causes. Maybe he could visit old Ky Tung and start a nice little civilian business and raise little Kimura's on old Earth?

Natasha's heart felt crushed when Lew told her his suit's proximity alarm had shown a different icon for the approaching suit and it asked if he wanted to relinquish motor control. She knew Luigi had caught up with them. Lew passed her instructions on to Guido, while she cursed the Baron. Running wasn't really an option any more now that Bharaputra was wise to the situation. They had to stop him here and hope he hadn't alerted the shuttle's pilot, or they were sunk. Damn it, they'd nearly gotten clear!

She had her own weapon ready: much good it would do. Gione was jittering about excitably. Was that worse than freezing? maybe not. What to say? No time anyway, here was the big shiny brown suit rushing towards them from the ramp's exit, already firing plasma arc and missiles down the corridor towards them - well, if she survived she'd doubtless think of a brilliantly rousing speech!

She flattened herself down into the corner between wall and floor behind the two suited boys and for the first time on decades she prayed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Kimura heard the sounds of firing ahead through the suit microphones. He estimated he and Crozier were only seconds behind the Baron. The other three Barryarans were strung out maybe a minute behind, which might be useful or fatal depending how things panned out. He performed his final weapons check, as he pounded towards the exit, planning to cut from the inside wall, across to the ramp exit to come out fast. He'd have to assess the situation on the fly and rely on instinct.

As they caught up with Ivan at the fourth level Werrel was out of breath from a few hundred metres of helping the Lieutenant's glitchy suit along. He prompted Teller between breaths, "Warn the Captain it's us sir."

Teller found the low band frequency Kimura had used to talk to Captain Vorpatril earlier, "Teller and Werrel coming up behind! How are you doing sir, can we help at all?"

Ivan was at a stage of overheated exhaustion he'd only ever achieved in basic training marathons; or rare sexual encounters with the most demanding partners, where the honour of the Vor had demanded going beyond all reasonable physical endurance to give satisfaction. He looked back in fond remembrance of the accompanying satisfaction when he had succeeded, then usually fallen into an exhausted sleep.

"I'll follow on sergeant. Go and support Crozier and Kim..." he ran out of breath as they passed him and he barely recovered from a stumble. He began to worry that he might be hallucinating when his proximity sensor came to life with multiple targets coming down the ramp behind him. The display was very confused and they seemed to be blending and breeding like bacteria. He ran straight into a wall he'd not seen before and fell over backwards choking on spit he couldn't seem to swallow, and his mouth was dry.

He'd been about to do something very important and he was sure a woman had been involved! God it must have been a really hot night - he could hardly move! But really! She needed to do something about the decor, the ceiling was all cracked and dirty - maybe he should suggest mirrors?

The Baron burst out of the ramp at full pelt, firing a plasma barrage then two missiles, before Lew could react.

Although Lew had his plasma arc ready his response was slow, but he kept firing at the missile all along the short trajectory and maybe that confused it, because it bounced off his shoulder and then the wall and exploded somewhere behind.

Natasha had to shut her eyes and put her arms over her head, which wasn't enough protection to prevent the back of her clothing from being singed and peppered with plaster, cinders and fragments of roof tile.

Lew tried to control his panic as Natasha had taught him, but this wasn't virtual reality and for all the familiarity of controls, real physical feedback was much more distracting! Even though the second missile had somehow missed, his own plasma fire didn't seem very effective and two more missiles were incoming which was not improving his aim! He leaned against the right hand wall and kept his fire pouring into the lead missile - it had seemed to work last time. He caught a glimpse of Guido falling backwards, firing his own plasma arc wildly and began to worry more seriously about their chances, no matter what Natasha had said earlier.

Guido was down and firing backwards along the corridor, dislodging burning ceiling tiles down all the way to the east perimeter wall and setting fire to the grungy carpet too. He was quite enjoying it in a weirdly destructive way until he thought what the air might be getting like, for people with no suit conditioned atmosphere - well, he'd done enough damage to be convincing so it should be alright to shut it off now. He killed the plasma beam and refocussed his attention on the local sensor readings. Guido saw that Lew was having a hard time of it, but the Baron was nearly close enough, so he slowly bent his head forwards to get a better view and then cringed as the missile hit Lew's chest and ricocheted against the wall next to his own suit before exploding.

Baron Bharaputra was in a state of martial grace, almost floating along the drab corridor towards the traitorous four. He could see the little manikin of Natasha so-called Greeling and the other Barrayaran clone cowering behind his own clone. The other clone must be in the downed suit, no threat now.

The third missile hit his clone's suit dead centre and blew it back along the corridor, way beyond any chance of shielding the two unprotected enemies. If the clone had been wearing a normal suit it would have been destroyed, but the Baron's personal suits were the most advanced highly specified suits to be found in the wormhole nexus - very efficient energy dispersal and double shielded. His own was a slighter newer model of that same Betan top-of-the-line command suit.

He savoured the moment. Striding more confidently than he had in many months, since the virus started eating his brain. There was nothing they could do. He checked his telemetry, his clone's suit was showing signs of some real damage, so he would soon finish him off. The other suit, with the Barrayaran clone in it was reporting dead, no feedback at all, which was oddly un-reassuring. He slowed his approach as suspicion mounted that all was not as he'd thought and made a instant decision to take the unprotected two out in case something was going wrong. But his hind brain must have sent a conflicting signal because his arm seemed to move of it's own accord, training the plasma arc on the downed suit and firing just as that suit fired at him.

The two plasma beams met and exploded in a ball of searing heat, that caused him to stagger back. The damn Barrayaran clone was playing dead! The Baron brought the rocket launcher around before realising the range was too short, but the Barrayaran was thrown off by the gesture and redirected his fire to the launcher on his left arm leaving the Baron's right arm free as the two plasma beams slid apart. Bharaputra altered his aim slightly and saw the clone's shield flicker as it reflected most, and absorbed the remainder of the energy. He knew the weaknesses of his men's equipment well, having studied the manufacturers specifications, and later tested to find the real limits. A couple of seconds more and he'd have him!

The wall spalled next to him, then his own shield snapped loudly as it tried to cope with the clone's renewed plasma blast and another from somewhere behind him. He staggered and turned shakily to find two Barrayarans, no - one was a hated Dendarii. His aim was lost and he stepped back from the clone, and walked towards the Dendarii mercenary and fired a missile without aiming it properly. It bounced off the wall and hit the outer, supporting wall of the ramp, shattering it and revealing two more Barrayarans. Then the ramp collapsed, throwing the new Barrayarans to the floor where they were buried by the collapsing ceiling. Baron Bharaputr fired another missile at the Dendarii - as he wondered where the man had appeared from - he'd glimpsed Barrayarrans outside the creche before the explosion there had buried him, then seen two burried there as he escaped a few minuted ago. Maybe that was the two on the ramp? Well, even if this was a hallucination, Luigi Bharaputra would go down fighting this time, no surrender, no more humiliations in front of his enemies!

The second missile missed the Dendarii again, went all the way to the far end of the corridor and exploded against the western boundary wall, harmlessly as far as the combatants were concerned. His aim was off because he was simultaneously firing his plasma arc at the other Barrayaran soldier. It had knocked the man back, but now he let it go and aimed deliberately at the Dendarii suit and fired again, throwing the man's aim of him even as the missile hit the Dendarii a glancing blow - the explosion knocking it against the wall and down to the floor.

The Baron's anger took over and he fired a long stream of plasma at the fallen Dendarii, until the Barrayaran interupted, and forced him to return fire.

Crozier was firing through the dust at where the brown suit had been, one of them anyway! Maybe he'd banged his head worse than he though earlier, because either he was seeing double or something confusing had happened, he was sure he'd seen a Bharaputran guard firing on the shiny brown armoured suit - firing at each other, just as he arrived. There was another shiny suit farther away, damaged... The point was - what was the point? This was so bloody confusing! His brain must be scrambled or something.

Then the closer one, Baron Bharaputra? had fired a missile towards him, it missed but threw his aim off. Then the explosion behind, as the ramp collapsed made him stagger and loose balance, leaning against the wall. Before he could do anything to stop it, the Baron had fired another missile and knocked Kimura over, and he wasn't moving!

Now the Baron in his shiny suit was walking forward again, pouring plasma fire onto the Dendarii Captain. The Baron was the primary target right now, so he stepped away from the wall and took aim, and fired a continuous stream of plasma onto the Baron's suit.

Of the three missiles Bharaputra had fired, only the last one had done any damage to Kimura. He was down on the floor and couldn't get his damn suit working properly. His suit was under concentrated plasma fire from the enemy, crackling constantly - it couldn't last long at this rate - the indicator was plummeting! His whole right side was out of action, and that included the arm with his plasma arc. He could still fire it, but that wasn't much use when it was trapped under him! He managed to roll off of it and flop over onto his back, the attack had stopped, and he lifted his head half up so he could just see the Baron's suit standing near him but firing off to the left at Crozier.

Lieutenant Crozier had the enemy in his sights and kept the plasma pumping until secondary capacitance time-lag kicked in, due to the lowering battery power and it started to jitter and stall. He checked the energy level and felt coldness wash down his spine. The power was down to fifteen percent and dropping fast as he kept the plasma arc going on full power, and his suit shield was even worse - maybe enough power to take seven more hits. His arm wavered with his attention and the shield level dropped a couple of points - he gritted his teeth, steadied his aim and kept the plasma stream on the Baron until the next time it flicked off, for half a second. That was long enough for the Baron to get a partial burn through.

Crozier screamed at the searing heat and fell back, his right arm twitching and his nose full of the smell of scorched hair and flesh. His hair. His flesh. The the pain came.

Kimura had watched, unable to do anything to help Crozier. He was pushing up with his left elbow to reduce friction so he could rotate his suit and get his right arm pointing towards the Baron, when he saw Crozier's shield flicker and die as sparks and smoke blew out the back pack cover and the lieutenant's suit fell to the floor. Kimura's attention was riveted on Bharaputra's bulky suit, the brown shiny surface still showing through the grime and dust, as it turned towards him, the plasma beam flicked onto Kimura, now that Crozier was no threat. Kim fumbled with his left hand, falling back on the floor as he reached awkwardly into his hip pack and tried to grab the spare power pack he thought he'd put in there earlier. He was sure he had, unless it had fallen out sometime since. Yes! He had it and held it in front of his face plate to be sure, flexing his clumsy armoured fingers to get it with the contacts outward then slam them down on the floor once and twice to be sure, then tossed it at the Baron's feet and threw his left arm across his own faceplate - either way he'd rather not see what came next.

The Baron played the plasma beam over the fallen Dendarii and laughed; revenge was sweet even as death approached. He'd outlive the mercenary if nothing else, and his other enemies were strewn around him. The Barrayaran was a smoking ruin and the two clones' suits were crippled - he'd return to them in a moment, as soon as the cursed Dendarii felt the heat of his revenge. Then, with just a little more luck he would fly out of this pit of destruction and see that Fell got the blame he deserved for bringing such mayhem down on their planet. He'd make it all the fault of Fell. He was Bharaputra, a prince of Jackson's Whole and even in his last diseased year of life he would show them how real Jacksonian royalty went out in style!

He felt an impact on his back and his aim wavered. Was this something to do with the depleted power pack the Dendarii had thrown? Just a weak overload explosion? Something flashed across his vision top to bottom and he felt a weight pulling his head back. Something behind his back was pushing and pulling like, the clones? Or - oh surely not that?

Natasha was aching and burnt, her shirt hanging off in smouldering strips where she'd patted out the flames. She was cut, bruised, battered and singed, and the two clones were down, stuck in their suits with some sort of damage. The the earpiece had fallen out and wrist com was broken. Gione was still alive if singed and unconscious following a blow from some falling debris. She pushed up and leant on the wall. She could see the Baron's suit walking towards some of the new arrivals. There were two of them, but they were both down on their backs! The Barrayaran suit she recognised was of a standard design and it was a smoking wreck amongst the rubble, the other one wasn't looking good either, with the Barron pouring plasma fire onto it without a break. If she didn't do something quickly the Barron would soon be free to come back and finish off her and the clones. So she got up and ran at his back. To be honest it was more of a limping shuffle, but she got there soon enough and did her worst jump ever! All the way to his knee and she couldn't even kick the back of it properly. Bloody pathetic Natasha! Get a grip!

She got up again and picked her foot holds before enacting a slow and crablike climb up the suit's back until she had an arm around his neck to keep her in place. What Bharaputra didn't know was that she'd seen the specs for his suit, and she'd got the unlock code off Lew's version of the suit. Naturally the backpack cover was locked, but since the wearer couldn't reach back to change their own power packs, there was an unlock code-pad, and if the Baron was lazy...

Hanging almost sideways she tapped the code in and the release handle popped out. Quickly, before he could block it, she pulled the cover open, but it jammed! She could just get her fingers under, and with difficulty she loosened one of the power packs, but she couldn't get it out because the cover was still too close and wouldn't budge. She gripped the edge of it near the catch and pulled and pulled, and pulled to no effect. She twisted around and got her feet back down, on the greaves covering Baron's calf muscles and released her left arm, quickly bringing it down and getting a second grip under the edge and pulling with all her waning strength, even walking her feet up the back of his legs and then pushing with all the strength of her thighs too. The Baron's plasma fire had ceased and he was turning around and around nearly dislodging her feet, but the damn cover wouldn't come all the way open, though she'd loosened it some more; if she could just get it open enough to reach in before he shook her off... She forced her hand up, gripped the power pack weakly and got it half out. Just a bit more...

"Natasha!" the Baron shouted, but uncertain and childlike, "Get OFF him! I can't fire with you in the way!"

Groggily she realised what it meant, scraped skin off wrenching her hand out, and threw herself around to swing the Baron away from the clones and herself off his back in a very clumsy roll right across the downed Barrayaran, or was it the other one? Either way she made every effort to tunnel underneath him. She knew what was about to happen.

Barron Bharaputra finally shook the little freak off and watched her try and hide under the Dendarii's suit. Well, he'd barbecue her there while he cooked the mercenary in his shell. It had been years since he'd indulged in a barbecue - even longer since he'd seen a human one - he'd always left that sort of thing to Ry Ryoval, as being a foolish weakness. Maybe Ry had understood something after all. Sometimes winning just wasn't enough, you had to make your opponent feel their defeat through to their bones! He washed the plasma stream over the Dendarii suit, setting fire to the flame resistant carpet tiles. A moment later the plasma stream stuttered and died. He triggered the plasma again and was puzzled when he got a red flashing light on the power circuit. That couldn't be right, there was still power there, but the control display was flashing a message about using weapons power to keep the suit running - not NOW! He tried to override it so he could fire, but the suit shield was sucking up all the power, cracking and snapping with static as the power readings dropped alarmingly. Other power symbols flashed red and yellow too, and a tinny klaxon he hadn't known the existence of sounded deafeningly in his right ear. His eyes watered with the all the sensory input beating on his sick brain. He could feel something burning his back - and that shouldn't be possible, he checked amidst the red field of his display and found the shield power reading, he still had time! Three more hits and he'd be beaten, but not yet! He spun around while he still had movement, stepped across and stooped to pick up the Barrayaran's smoking suit and hold it in front of him. It had no plasma shield but the body of the suit should hold long enough if he could get close to his clone maybe he could...

Natasha had thought it would happen quicker than that, but even with the extra time to get under the grey suit of armour, and pull her limbs in all the way she still felt the searing blast of the explosion as the Baron's suit power pack finally detonated.

She must have passed out for a minute or two because she didn't remember the grey suited soldier roll off her, though she was happy all that weight was gone she sure would like it if they could find a field medic - she hoped it was the Barrayarans anyway. Actually, either way it would be alright if they could just knock her out again - drugs or an armoured fist would be OK. Anything to stop the burning sensations that were returning along her back!

"Get off me!" She screamed as someone tried to pull her arms away from her face. She could smell a lot of burnt things and one of them was hair, and she was sure most of that must be hers because the clones all had shorter hair than her, and theirs would be further away from her nose too. She sighed in relief as the present surrounding faded.

Lew was on his back again but trying to get up to see what had happened to Natasha when he felt some more plasma fire playing over him. He managed to push up and turned towards it's source. It was more Barrayarans, but now they were firing at him - they must think he'd blasted their friends. He flicked through the suit's settings and set the external speaker to be loud because he couldn't remember what Natasha had said were the Barrayaran's channel settings and they were secured anyway.

"I'm not Bharaputra!" A white lie, if lie it was, "We're the clones you're here to rescue! Stop firing, please! We have injured people here - unsuited! Unarmed!" He took a breath and held his arms up, "I surrender! Stop firing!" But they already had.

"Holy fucking cow - what a complete screw up!" Colonel Hammond and his surviving men clumped down over the rubble and covered the clones with their plasma arcs, while he surveyed the damage from the top of a pile of rubble that had recently been the ramp.

"Sergeant Pyrios, secure that Bharaputran! No, don't kill him yet - he might be telling the truth, or at least know something. Timmons, get that other one quick, he's still moving!"

The two newly arrived Barrayarans jumped off the rubble pile and loped over to the two suited clones, flipped them over, their powered fingers getting a good grip and wrenching off the rear cover panels, then pulling the power packs out, rendering them prisoners until further notice.

Hammond stood still and assessed the situation. There were two suited friendlies, laying motionless. One was that Dendarii and the other was Crozier, the ImpSec senior lieutenant. He was about to move down and check for signs of life in the two suits and had turned his head to see where his other two men were with Vorpatril, when his footing moved and he toppled off the rubble pile doing an unceremoniously somersault on his way to the bottom, and coming to rest with his faceplate next to a smouldering boulder that looked like burnt meat. He nearly lost the meagre contents of his stomach when he realised it was burnt meat: a man's head! It was unrecognisable except in general terms. He pushed up and swallowed the taste of his faintly remembered last meal. The taste second time around was even worse.

He turned back to the rubble to see a couple of battered and dirty Barrayaran suites rise like the dead come for judgement. Well, he could furnish that, "Who the hell are you two?" He brought up his command manifest and got two hits back from pinging their suit coms, Werrel and Teller, the other ImpSec men. Well, well, so all the eggs were here in one basket - and he had them all. Maybe he could salvage something from this fiasco after all.

"Teller! Werrel! Get down her now and take charge of these bloody clones as soon as you get them identified - the two in those suits and another further along the corridor there," pointing to the Bharaputran suits lying inert down the passageway, "Check them while I check these other two. Medic! Where the fuck are you Clemens! Haven't you got Captain Vorpatril here yet?"

He looked higher and saw their boots coming down under the hanging walls where the ramp had collapsed. Captain Vorpatril was being dragged face up between the medic and the troop engineer. They must not have been able to get him mobile for one reason or the other. Well, too bad, "Never mind him right now, leave him up there - we might be going back that way anyhow. Get down here and check these two!" Pointing at the Dendarii and Crozier.

The two marines dropped Ivan without much delicacy and jumped off the ramp. The medic's left foot twisted and he came down in a small avalanche of plascrete rocks, rolling at the bottom to get back quickly to his feet, embarrassed. The engineer descended with more skill.

"Good lord, what is the service coming to? Get those men seen to; triage them and the one down there," pointing to Gione, "Let's get moving people! We still need to make contact with the ship and get ourselves picked up from this god forsaken Whole!" He rolled 'W' with savour.

Trooper Jennings, the engineer rolled Kimura over onto his back and recoiled so far he nearly fell over backwards, only stopping himself by keeping a grip on Kimura's arm, "Captain sir! There's a woman here! She's badly burned though."

"What does she look like..." He ground to a halt as he saw the state of her over the engineer's shoulder. He didn't know enough about burns to give an accurate classification beyond 'bloody serious', so he turned to Clemens, "Medic!"

The medic turned from Crozier's opened helmet and looked at the captain, "Yes sir! The lieutenant's hanging on, but we need to get him out of his suit, there's coolant leaking inside - what didn't boil off is contaminating his wounds sir."

"Right. Jennings, you get the lieutenant out of that suit. Clemens, you see to the woman while that's being done, then tend to Lieutenant Crozier once he's out of the suit. Get to work." He turned again and started towards the Bharaputran suits and clones, "Timmons? Have you got those clones secure yet? Well what are you doing - they don't need guarding, they aren't going anywhere without power. Go and check that other one - is it dead or just resting?... No, you go and help Jennings."

Hammond got to Lew's suit and crouched over it, staring into the face plate, "So are you Fell's clone or are you one of the others?"

"I'm not Fell's clone, he's a vegetable."

"What! Are you trying to get me angry mister? 'Cos if you are you aren't going to like the result! Now. Which fucking clone are you?"

He was momentarily distracted when Trooper Garring finally limped out onto the remains of the ramp dragging Lessing's suit behind him; he dropped the injured man next to Ivan and stood there looking at the scene below.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

In orbit Vortigan was clearly loosing his temper, "What do you mean you aren't being allowed? I thought you had command of the airspace!"

The Baron felt the strain of appearing more controlled, which wasn't doing his blood pressure much good. Doctor Durona was constantly frowning about the effect of the stress. He smiled tightly at the Commodore's open emotion, "That was before Bharaputra set off that atomic. It has brought the other Houses into alliance in record time. My people have secured the main lab facility, which is a good bargaining chip, and they have had some success in corroborating our assertions. Otherwise I doubt the alliance leaders would still be talking to me at all. Dyne and Hargreaves have in-system ships en-route already; so do I, but theirs will arrive first and they'll be able to enforce the lock down of your merchant fleet. Even so, I would advise sitting it out Commodore. I'll keep them talking and once we get your men back I promise you that you'll be able to leave. You might not be allowed back, but I don't get the impression that will worry you."

"Personally, no. What about my fighters and the shuttle they forced down? What about anyone else still on site by the time their troops get there?"

"We'll have to negotiate. But we've heard nothing from Bharaputra since the recorded message claiming that we were controlling the ship that exploded. We've already discredited that claim, and I expect them to accept our version officially, if not publicly, very soon. All our shuttles may be released and allowed to make supervised pickups, which isn't ideal I grant you, but we may still salvage much from this."

"Really? The raid has gone from a dubious plan to a disaster faster than any operation I've ever been involved in. So you will understand that unless I receive more concrete cooperation from you and the other houses I will..." The Barrayaran belatedly controlled himself before he went any further, "be making an unfavourable report to my superiors, and in case you aren't familiar with Barrayaran politics, traitors are not tolerated."

The Baron controlled the urge to smile, but the Commodore's sparring was amusing, and it had been some time since the Baron had dealt with such a hot head! He really was a delight - if only the situation hadn't been so fraught with potential disaster he'd tell him to take a hike and, once his own ships arrived, throw their whole fleet out, after taking damages from the Komarrans of course - that would give the Commodore something to explain. He could make a diplomatic complaint too, it would be such fun! Nevertheless, he had more urgent tasks to complete so that he would be available for the third stage of the treatment as soon as the lost sheep were returned.

"Commodore, please! Threats are unwarranted at this stage in negotiations, and in fact would be very counter productive - please do not attempt to contact the other Houses directly without my agreement - your routine complaints to Dyne are normal under the circumstances but please do not make any ill advised military threats. I repeat, negotiations are proceeding - slowly but satisfactorily under the circumstances.

Please have patience and I am... almost certain we will get you the clones and your surviving officers without too much further expense on your part. My own expense will be considerably higher initially envisaged, but as you say we did have an agreement which I intend to honour as far as developing circumstances allow. Rest assured Commodore, I am not getting my treatment at a bargain price - far from it. Unforeseen circumstances are a normal business risk - even Barrayar has had setbacks in their campaigns - Escobar for instance. As you say poor planning has had an effect, but that has not been on my part, I assure you."

Vortigan gritted his teeth through the Baron's double-talk but had to accept his relative impotence. He would never have countenanced setting out on this adventure with such a small and poorly armed fleet if he'd been involved in the planning, and he'd be having some words with his superiors, even if it might affect his promotion prospects. The casualty estimates he'd been presented with earlier had left him cold, and speechless.

"Then I will watch and wait for now Baron, for now. Please let me know as soon as you have any definitive information, or any other information of use. Good bye." He cut the connection and sat staring at the desk top. He would be writing condolence messages for days. The personnel and equipment costs would need it's own section in the annual audit, and his name would be inextricably linked to this operation for years to come. What a waste of men and machines, all to extricate some worthless copies of - no not worthless, valuable to enemies of Barrayar, of which there were more than a few. Better to have sent a well armed suicide mission to do what Bharaputra had almost done - turn that whole base into a lava flow and blame it on - well those mercenaries would be a possibility, the other ones - Randals Rangers would be even better. Too late now.

So he just had to suck it up and sit here looking ineffective - to his own people and the Jacksonians. No immediate retribution then, but he'd be advising some examination into restructuring this pirates playground. What if they hadn't heard about this plot until it had progressed as far as the clones reaching Barrayar, and causing the chaos Bharaputra had planned. What was to stop some other one of these 'houses' setting in train a similar plan or even something less arcane and more workable, more direct. He should do a threat assessment, maybe that would distract him while he waited to see what these pirates would come up with next.

Then there were the complaints from the Komarran trade fleet's own Commodore to deal with. What did they expect him to do? Blast the station they were docked at? He wasn't quite that mad, yet.

The Baron looked at the dead screen in irritation, his earlier amusement had dissipated. Really! What had those backwoods Barryarans been thinking to put such an officer in charge of this mission? He knew they had better men in their service - he'd met those two Vorkisigan clones himself - at least they'd claimed to both be clones at the time and he still thought of them that way until he remembered that the thinner one was the real son of Aral Vorkosigan.

It still wasn't a widely known fact. However Baron Fell had an interest in such things, from a professional viewpoint, and as an amateur military historian. Even the other young officer, Vorpatril was a better negotiator - at least better mannered and more personable. He lay back in his bed and tried to relax again. Heinrich, his own station commander and his best litigator, Rupert Howell were keeping the ball rolling with Dyne and Hargraves, so that he could rest until his face was required for any decisive interview. He hoped the young Vorpatril was still alive, along with his agent and the clones. It would be irritating to have the operation result in complete failure, even if he did get to keep the Bharaputran main compound, which he would fight tooth and nail to ensure. That was his real profit margin on the raid. The treatments were a personal benefit, though he thought he could make good a business case for it, if he had anyone to answer to, which he didn't.

Why was he even considering that? He was tired, that was all - get more rest and let his assistants execute the details of the operation, make them earn their salaries.

He drifted off to sleep while Rowan watched through the side window of his recovery room. If she couldn't get him to reduce the level of tension then his treatments would not be fully effective. Cell reproduction in the early stages could be a delicate process until the retro virus completed the first few regenerations and replaced all the senescing cells. Even a relatively low level of stress could have measurable effects. Well, she had warned the Baron and she had adjusted the timescales as much as she could. Maybe it would be enough, maybe not. She wasn't part of his House any more, so she'd be away from here before he found out how much his stress levels had diminished his life expectancy. Even the best people on his medical staff couldn't know that for months yet.

She consulted with those staff members before returning to her quarters, accompanied by the Barrayaran guard, Hutton. As soon as she was inside he asked what he'd obviously been waiting to ask since the raid had got into trouble, "Any news from below Doctor?"

"Nothing definite yet. We're all in the same situation - we just have to wait until someone down there gets through to us, or the other House troops get there and we hear some report of what they find."

He looked as unhappy with that as his Commodore had been. She could understand that, she quite wanted to know what had happened to the captain herself - after all he was the one who'd be escorting her back once the treatments were done with. Besides, she'd rather have his company than any of the other Barrayarans.

Ivan felt better now that his suit had been adjusted. It was a bit too cold actually, and he had a fleeting flashback to his earlier panic about being in a cryogenic chamber. He'd come around earlier and got his suit moving, albeit very slowly because of the low power situation, and was sitting on one of the larger lumps of plascrete next to the demolished ramp listening to Colonel Hammond trying to override the little woman that they'd made such a hash of rescuing.

"And I say you're an idiot Colonel!" she fell back onto the improvised stretcher, "Without Lew to get you out you'll be stuck here until those House Dyne goons arrive and take you prisoner. They must be nearly here by now! And I don't see you talking yourself out of this."

"No one would take this lad for the Baron! He's obviously too young. Why would they accept his orders unless they think it's the Baron. What about passwords and codes. The pilot'll be able to tell..."

"Give him enough time and the pilot will spot it yes, which is where you come in useful," she muttered something Ivan didn't quite catch.

Hammond glared at her, "You seem very confident of your clone's abilities. It was my understanding that you needed our help to get out of here - in fact it's why we came. If you had all this so well planned, what did you need us for?"

"A ride out once we reached orbit," she snapped back, "That and reaching orbit. I didn't expect I'd have to kill the Baron myself - with help," she nodded at Lew then winced and gritted her teeth, "We just have to get in. With Luigi dead and a gun on him..." She looked very ill, she didn't look like she could keep this up much longer.

She turned to Ivan, "Captain Vorpatril?"

He jerked alert, "What? Er, yes Miss Chenko?"

"If we want to get out of here ourselves we've probably got about fifteen minutes, if we're lucky. You have no communications and no transport. I believe Lew can get us onto Bharaputra's shuttle and we can make our own way up to orbit, hopefully without getting stuck in the middle of a Jacksonian power struggle. Do you think my plan is better than no plan? Or do you have a better idea than sitting here until we're captured? Unfortunately I'm no longer in charge. You are. You decide. But do it now!"

"I don't think the Captain is in a fit state to make command decisions, I..."

"Am not a doctor. So it's not your decision," she muttered, "...at the mercy of gibbering idiots..." Ivan heard her this time.

Ivan smiled tiredly, "I am the senior officer here," he reasoned, "and though I'm not entirely happy with the plan, Miss Chenko's been successful so far, barring the injuries, and I don't see any better solution. I don't think we could convince the shuttle pilot to surrender quickly - all he has to do is wait for those other Jacksonian's and he'll be better off. We'll try it - if it fails we're no worse off," and to Natasha, "though you and the clones may be."

"And they are our responsibility!" Hammond objected.

"True," agreed Ivan, "But what will happen if we loose control of the situation, more than we already have done?" He turned to the clone, "Lew is it?"

Lew stood straighter, they still had his suit disabled, but at least they'd stood him up near Natasha and the others, "Yes sir?"

"How confident are you that you can bring this off?"

"Natasha says I can sir, and I trust her absolutely. I was born to do this sir." He looked very earnest, and very young.

Ivan looked over at Natasha on the stretcher, her face was attractive even under the dirt and bruising, and she looked strained but alert, having refused the painkillers until they could get her onto the shuttle. He tried to ignore the burns, and looked away to see how the two Gregor clones were holding up. They were so young. They might be near to Gregor's full height, but they were only about eight years old in real terms. How could he send them into that situation?

He could because he must, and he'd known Gregor at that age - yeah, when he himself had been about three! So thinking an eight year old Gregor was a capable youngster might not be entirely logical.

"Colonel, you will give all aid and comfort to Miss Chenko on my personal authority as the Voice of Emperor Gregor Vorbarra, on my personal word to him that we would get these clones, and Miss Chenko out of here. I will be answerable personally to the Emperor and to your superiors," and with the other troops as witnesses, "Unless you fail to give it everything you've got - understood?"

Hammond was taken aback, "Yes Captain. On your personal authority as the Emperors representative, on your personal word of honour sir?"

"My word as Lord Vorpatril."

Hammond took a deep breath, "Then it will be done. Timmons! Jennings! Get those suits powered up and sealed! Clemens!" He turned to Natasha, "Are you sure you won't take a pain killer Miss Chenko?"

"No Colonel. I need to stay alert and mobile."

Hammond looked at her with grudging respect, "Clemens, do what you can for Crozier. Sergeant Pyrios, help him carry the lieutenant." He turned to the two other ImpSec men, "Since you can't accompany the clones directly, you can help Captain Vorpatril, and Kimura."

Werrel took the Dendarri while Teller helped Ivan to get his suit vertical again. Jennings had fixed his suit's leg problem and seen to the other minor mechanical issues too, which meant that at least he could walk properly again. They got themselves organised and trooped across to the ramp, leading down to the garage. The clones were going ahead, in case they met any locals before they got to the garage level, and Gione was carrying Natasha in his arms, and sometimes weeping. The weeping and the woman's injuries were upsetting, but it added to the authenticity.

There was more rubble further down the ramp and they had to go single file most of the way. Lew was first, closely followed by Gione carrying Natasha, then Guido in the the second Bharaputran suit. The Colonel and Sergeant Pyrios were a little way back, then came Ivan and Kimura with their ImpSec helpers.

Jennings and Clemens were carrying Crozier, out of his suit on the makeshift stretcher, following behind was Garring still doggedly dragging poor Lessing's suit, and Timmons was the rear guard.

As they got to the level above the garage Natasha halted and waited for Hammond to catch up, "You should wait here Colonel. McDermot, the pilot will be using his scanners for sure, and he'd spot your suits if you go below this floor."

Hammond stood close to her and Guido, he nodded, "You take care Miss, I know you're an experienced agent, but in combat things... Well, just take care."

She nodded, and winced - her neck was bleeding again, "Go on Lew, lead us in, Guido bring up the rear and be convincing!"

The two suited clones clumped down the ramp with Gione and Natasha between them. The Barrayarans watched them go with great trepidation. So much hung on completely inexperienced and very young civilians, clones, and one badly injured female agent.

Ivan thought they'd do all right. She wasn't the first little cripple he'd trusted his life to, and Miles had usually got him out of whatever difficult situation he'd gotten him into in the first place.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

They reached the exit to the garage and Lew thought about asking for last minute instructions from Natasha, but what if the pilot could overhear them - what if he could tell the difference between him and the old Baron?

Enough prevarication!

Lew stepped out into the garage, followed by Gione, who was now getting tired and staggering a bit. Guido followed them, keeping his plasma arc pointed threateningly at their back though the safety lock was on. Natasha's blood which was running down his trouser leg and Gione was leaving bloody footprints. As she'd pointed out, Bharaputra had no medic and probably would not have let him treat her anyway.

Lew activated the channel Natasha had specified, to him and the Barrayarans who'd also be listening, and spoke the agreed words, "Don, get the damn hatch open right now! What are you waiting for man?"

"I'm waiting for your security code sir, like always?"

Now they'd find out if Natasha was correct about him not changing codes often enough. Lew sent the last code she knew of and waited, trying not to sweat too much. He adjusted the suit temperature down a degree and forced himself to stand still. There was no reply and he began to run through the alternatives in his head. There wasn't another code and the shuttle was well armoured so force was not an option. He wasn't any good at bluster, even with the lessons Natasha had given them he just didn't seem to possess that ability... Despite being Luigi Bharaputra's clone, which at least argued for nurture over nature. Natasha couldn't help him and neither could Gione or Guido now. He was about to try his bluster anyway, when the hatch cracked open and the ramp extended slowly. The four of them stood still and waited to see what might come out. Everything so far seemed to have gone worse than hoped, why should this be any different.

McDermot leaned around the side of the hatch, wearing half armour and pointing a plasma rifle at Guido, "This is hooked up to the ships cannon - who's that in the other suit? Identify yourself!"

"McDermot! Have you taken leave of your senses? The others didn't make it - we ran into more Barrayarans than I expected and they're coming up behind us!" Which was Hammond's cue to follow on and help convince McDermot. Lew waved back towards Guido, "This is Garret, he's local and he'll help guard them - now let's get going! Move it man!"

McDermot looked suspiciously at Lew, "You never call me McDermot. Baron - what's wrong, have they got to you somehow? Are they threatening you? Was that a signal? I thought we'd agreed... I mean I think you'd better..."

Lew shot him, blowing off most of his head and making a mess of the non-standard leather fittings of the shuttle's main cabin. Luckily they were treated with an inflammable coating.

Gione cringed and hunched over Natasha, but she shouted, "Good work Lew, now call the bloody Barrayarans in and let's get going - you'd better tell them to get their best pilot in first or he might get stuck behind the other suits. Oh, it looks cramped in there with those seats," she complained, as they lumbered onto the shuttle and Gione laid her carefully across one of the cream leather bech seats in the rear, next to medical station; away from the worst of the mess from McDermot's head, "I hope Clemens gets here soon!"

Gione didn't like the way Natasha was shivering, and didn't know what he could do to help - should he put bandages on burns or not? The few training vids he'd seen had fled his memory and he couldn't seem to call them back. He didn't believe he was one of those cut out for battle, whatever his Barrayaran genetics were supposed to determine.

Hammond emerged from the ramp ahead of the others and looked around, assessing the situation. Guido had pulled the pilot's body further inside and laid it between some seats. Lew had gone forward to check the cockpit in case there was anyone else hiding there - and just to get away from the pilot's body.

As he came up the shuttle boarding ramp Hammond saw Gione hovering near Natasha and continued on to the back of the main cabin and glared down at her, "I thought you were going to talk the pilot into flying us out of here - that was your plan wasn't it? Or was I mistaken?"

Gione cringed at his tone, and Natasha answered shortly, "Best laid plans Captain, the pilot opened the hatch all right, but got suspicious and had to be dealt with - I didn't think you'd mind that!"

"If I had my own pilot I might not have. I, madam, am a soldier, not a pilot. Unfortunately we don't have one in this group, unless one of your clones can operate this shuttle?"

The other Barrayarans had arrived and Ivan loomed behind the captain, "No worries Hammond, I think I can fly it - it's been a while but it looks fairly standard."

"Gione love, get me up front please," said Natasha.

"What, no - you need treatment Tash, you can't fly this yourself you're bleeding all over the place!"

"Don't worry Miss," Ivan assured her, "I'll get us out of here now - you just lie back and enjoy the ride. Best get strapped in though, it might get a bit rough what with er, things."

"It's not that Captain - well I suppose you can fly it - but you'll need the activation codes and I should be there to watch in case McDermot's done anything tricky to them."

"Booby traps or something?"

"He was Bharaputra's personal pilot for over twenty years and he had a reputation for being a sneak, except where the Baron himself was concerned - and he nearly, well he did rumble us, just too late. So I'd expect something, though I hope it's not too complicated, 'cos I don't feel very sharp right now."

Hammond grimaced but shouted, "Clemens! Oh, there you are. Get your treatment ready for Miss Chenko, she'll be back in a few minutes, after we get the shuttle going and I want everything ready to make her as comfortable as possible, understood?"

"Yes sir! Ma'am!" nodding to Natasha then turning to the medical station to rifle through the drawers and cupboards and work out what medication he had at his disposal. It looked fairly standard, despite the cream leather facings on most surfaces. Clemens cooly wiped off some bits of McDermot.

"Timmons! Jennings! Good, you have the lieutenant stowed. Now carry the lady forwards to the co-pilot's seat and assist her in any way possible. Now!" He turned and marched forward himself manoeuvring down the narrow aisle with helpful shoves against the seat backs, and more shouting for the others to get aboard and secure the hatch.

Natasha squealed in pain a couple of times before Ivan had Gione help her instead.

Werrel had his suit off already, though it was in an untidy pile taking up too much space. He had Ivan half out of his suit faster than Ivan would have thought possible, even with the impatient hand slaps when Ivan's own fumbling hands got in the way.

Teller was un-suiting too, and Ivan was unprofessionally pleased he was just as clumsy as himself. Even so, he was up in the cockpit, strapping into the pilot's seat not far behind Natasha. She had Gione working the controls getting the shuttle online, but they had already hit a snag.

"Get Lew up here, now!" she shouted and slumped back from the effort. Ivan swapped places with Gione and buckled in.

Lew was still in his suit, though he'd removed the helmet and gauntlets, "What do you need Natasha?"

"You. It's a code activator sequence and I know he'll have set it for Bharaputra as well as himself, so hopefully we shouldn't need McDermot's voice or palm print, which might not work without life signs anyway. So I need you to repeat the code words while Captain Vorpatril presses the pad, and don't anyone else speak once we start 'cos we might not get another chance. It could change sequence if we make a mistake. Now Lew..."

"Wait! How do you know the codes?" Ivan asked.

"This was one of the possible routes out, so of course I bugged it! It also means I don't have to waste time disabling the automatic defences - a free pass, courtesy of the Baron's own personal shuttle beacon. Give me credit Captain! Now shut up and watch! Anyone else who's curious I'll shoot later, now shut the fuck up and let me do my job." She sobbed, "Please just let me get though this!"

Ivan winced and waved her and Lew to continue.

She took a breath and continued, her voice unsteady, "Lew, set channel sixteen and send the clearance code, one seven three five, bravo, tango, foxtrot. Now everyone else keep quite, Lew send it and repeat the codes."

A tinny voice came from under the console as well as from little speakers in Lew's collar, automatically activated when his helmet was removed so that coms would still work in intermediate dress situations, such as long periods of waiting or during suit repairs.

Lew repeated each word, "Come...", Natasha pointed at an activator button and Ivan pressed it just as the next word came through, "Fly.." again she pointed and Ivan pressed, and onwards, "Away.. Sexy.. Shuttle... Amazon."

Ivan had to control an urge to laugh at the idea of Baron Bharaputra himself having to say the words. McDermot had had a wicked sense of humour, which had probably helped keep him going over the years.

Finally Ivan heard something from outside the underground complex, but he didn't like what he heard as he scanned the channels.

He voiced his concerns, "Our own shuttles are still grounded and there's a no-fly zone for a two hundred kilometre radius. Dyne and Hargreaves shuttles are nearly here. I can't find any of our ground troops transmitting. I'm going to try and raise the _Kanzian_ now."

He changed to the designated emergency channel and transmitted his call sign. After a few seconds he got a response and seconds later the Commodore himself took over, "Vorpatril! Where the hell are you! Do you know how much shit has hit the fan up here?" Ivan could visualise him as the pause lengthened, and the Commodore ordered his priorities, "There's a no-fly zone, don't launch until I can get some sort of cover or clearance arranged, or until I give you the go ahead, understood?"

"Yes sir!"

"Right, give me a couple of minutes while I get hold of Baron Fell, keep listening!"

"Understood sir, standing by."

"Bloody military," complained Natasha quietly.

Ivan looked across at her then turned and shouted back into the main cabin, "Clemens! Get up to cockpit! The lady needs some attention!" but Hammond had already summoned the medic, from his position in the cockpit doorway, which he relinquished as the the medic bustled through.

Clemens was out of his armour now and carrying a full medical pack. "Come on miss, it's time you had some of this," he said pressing a hypospray to her neck, just above the edge of the burn line. "It won't make you too drowsy yet, but it'll help with the pain - just hold on a bit longer now till we get you to the back and I can treat some of these burns. Let me just spray the worst of it. This'll sting for a second but then it'll go nice and numb. Grit your teeth now," he administered the spray to the back of her hands and lifted her arms to get at the under side. She sighed as the numbness took her, and only with great difficulty managed to hang onto consciousness as the anticipated response came through from above.

It was Baron Fell's voice, "Captain, so glad you could join us. We've had some difficulties up here as well, but I won't tax your patience - you will be escorted to low orbit by two Jacksonian fighters, then you will be joined by two of my own fighter shuttles. Please do not deviate from the course you should be receiving now, is that clear?"

Ivan replied, "Yes Baron, very clear. Please be advised we have wounded personnel on board, three serious plasma burns - please tell them to have medical staff ready."

"Understood Captain. Now I believe that you are in Baron Luigi's personal shuttle, is that correct?"

"Yes, correct."

"Then there will be a slight complication I'm afraid. We can't allow his shuttle to dock directly with the station or any large craft for fear of some sort of booby trap."

Narasha waved her left hand feebly, "He's righ', there could be a bomb. Use a flex tube and an' transfer shuttle - mean' to say tha'... 'nother thing is Lew needs hidin'," she muttered drowsily.

"Understood Baron, we will rendezvous with a transfer shuttle and evacuate this craft at a distance. When can we take off?"

"Give it two more minutes, the escort has to get there yet, they were at the perimeter. Are there any other preparations we need to make Captain? Were you successful - no don't answer in any detail, this channel isn't fully secure."

Ivan looked across at Natasha, but she had passed out, "Mostly successful on our part Baron, but there was no sign of your young friend, and our agent is unconscious, so I'm afraid I don't have those details for you. I suggest we work that out once the wounded are taken care of sir."

"Understood. Debrief once your wounded are dealt with, and you are rested."

Ivan thought about getting Natasha taken back to the medical station, but decided to keep her forward until they were in orbit; it might be easier to wait until they could use the free fall to their advantage. The marines should be competent in that environment.

He checked the controls again, and as he thought they were much the same as the Barrayaran drop-shuttles. He set the down draft controls for minimum hover and slowly turned the shuttle on it's axis to face the external door.

The coms channel crackled slightly and then the Baron's sonorous voice told them that they now had clearance and that the Dyne fighter escort had arrived over the complex.

"Tell them we have to blow the doors to get out Baron, I'll give them a minute before I do that."

"Thanks for the warning," the Baron responded sarcastically, "I'll let them know."

"Captain?" asked Hammond, "Are you sure you can fly this thing?"

"Walk in the park Captain, walk in the park."

Gione chirped up, "I can fly it too. We all did the virtual training, but Lew's best."

"Now you tell me," muttered Ivan, then louder, "One of you can take co-pilot's seat once we're up there, until then keep quiet unless you have something useful to say. Don't distract me otherwise, OK?"

"Yes sir," Gione agreed meekly.

Ivan checked the ship's clock in the control panel and belatedly switched the internal com channel on and announced loudly, "Secure for takeoff. Brace yourselves for turbulence. Anyone with an objection better let me know in the next ten seconds - shout if you have to!"

Most of the men in the main cabin had stayed in their suits, including the two clones - just in case of trouble. They all got sat down and stretched straps across in the general vicinity of their waists - although it was armoured the shuttle was kitted out more like a civilian luxury transport than a functional military vessel. There were four suit support racks right at the rear, but the men distrusted anything sturdy enough to clamp them in position but was non-standard. They just had to hope the Captain wasn't too heavy handed.

Ivan flicked the safety off the cannons and adjusted the cross hairs onto the centre of the part open garage doors. "Five, four, three, two, one, grab something!"

He pressed the trigger and the door exploded out into the night, with a spectacular shower of hot metal fragments and white hot melted droplets. The shuttle even rocked back a little. Ivan shook his head, it seemed like he'd felt that shock more than he should have. He felt a bit like the sound was echoing around in the back of his head, and he shouldn't have heard anything through the hull, with the external pickups off - which they were.

"Wow," breathed Gione.

"Wha?" muttered Natasha, her eyes flickering. Gione got between the two pilot seats, checked Natasha was securely strapped in, then wedged himself down between the seats, gently holding Natasha's hand palm to palm, as the back of her hand was burned. He nodded to Ivan that he was ready. Colonel Hammond had squeezed through the door and managed to get onto the engineer's seat and wrap the straps across the suit's waist.

"Right then." Ivan gripped the yoke tightly, pulled the throttle back and the shuttle moved forwards, a bit faster than he'd meant it to in fact, and not quite straight, so since the hole he'd made was a tight fit anyway this meant he scraped the side of the shuttle against the battered door's ragged edge until that side of the door fell off completely - not that anyone else really noticed, and Ivan was too busy struggling with the controls to care. He thought that none of the others were aware of anything apart from a shimmy to the right when the door gave way and then he poured on acceleration and downdraft to get enough height to clear the valley sides and see what was around him. The navigation control buzzed to warn him he was straying off course and his headset beeped at him, so he scanned for the right channel and got the escort leader shouting at him.

"... five bravo tango, adjust your course three degrees port immediately! You are off course, respond immediately! Shuttle one seven three five bravo tango, adjust your course..."

Ivan pushed the control to the left slightly and responded, "Escort leader this is shuttle one seven three five bravo tango, complying with your instructions. Please confirm course correction is three, repeat three degrees port over."

The escort confirmed and Ivan managed to keep the shuttle in the designated flight path - give or take a few wobbles, until Fell's flight controller and escort shuttles took over. They climbed towards orbit and were guided towards an in-system transport vessel.

Clemens came to the front along with Jennings, the engineer and they manoeuvred Natasha out of the cockpit and back through the cabin to the medical station, She muttered and mumbled to Gione as they went, before passing out again. Once they got there she was sedated and Clemens gave her some basic burn treatments and applied field dressings. He had already done the same for Crozier's more serious burns even while they were still climbing in the atmosphere. He had removed some of Lessing's suit and did what he could to stabilise him, pumping liquids and blood in, but was leaving the real treatment until they got back to the ship - he didn't want to trust the cryogenic chamber on board the shuttle.

Gione came floating awkwardly forwards again as the gravity diminished to zero gee, and pulled himself down into the messy co-pilot's seat - Natasha had bled and it hadn't been cleaned up yet, though it was mostly adhering to the seat. He watched and waited for a quiet moment, "Captain?"

Ivan glanced at him then pressed his eyes closed, "Yes? Woo - zero gee can be weird when it hit's you, y'know?"

"Yes, it's strange - but not bad - that's not what I meant."

Ivan nodded for him to go on, then regretted it as his stomach lurched, "Yes, what is it then?"

"Natasha."

"She's all right isn't she?" He almost jerked his head around to look, but caught himself at the last moment, which made him feel a bit dizzy, and nauseous again.

"Oh, yes - well, no worse anyway. But she said to tell you that when we get to Baron Fell's shuttle to transfer across... She said we should make sure the Fell guards don't see Lew, because they might take him off us. If Fell or his men recognise him and think, I don't know - she passed out again, but she thinks it's very important."

"Right. Look I need both hands to control this - can you ask the Colonel up here, quickly - we'll be docking in a few minutes."

Gione pushed himself up out of the seat again and pulled himself along the ceiling through the cockpit door and back towards where Hammond was organising his men for the transfer, getting them back in their suits so they didn't need to carry them and stowing the Bharaputran suits in the racks at the back. Jennings was wiping some of the dirt off them. McDermot's body was wrapped in a blanket nearby.

Ivan assessed the troop transport they'd been directed to dock with. It was a big old design that looked like it had seen better days, with several worrying impact scars showing more basic repairs than Ivan would have accepted. Still, it looked to be airtight and had two docking tubes extended ready, one of which they were being guided towards at the same time as a Fell shuttle was approaching the other.

Hammond arrived a couple of minutes later and looked out at the transfer vessel unenthusiastically, "Couldn't they do better than that?"

"It'll do. Look Captain, the boy just warned me about the Fell guards. It seems that they might confiscate Lew, the Bharaputra clone - can you swap clothes or smear him with blood, put him in one of our suits or something - just disguise him and get him across to our ship - I've got to get this thing docked, how long do you need?"

Hammond looked back into the main cabin, considering the options then replied, "Leave it to me Captain - give me five minutes if you can.

"No problem; let me know when you're about ready - until then I'll take it slow," he edged in very tentatively, which was fine with him the way his eyes were blurring - probably the smoke and dust in the underground facility, he thought.

After a slow approach it took him two attempts to get the tube properly locked on, despite which he felt good about the flight. Hammond even said, "Not bad Captain, considering you've not flown one for a while."

Crozier, Lessing and Natasha were carried off and across the old ship to be re-stowed next to the Fell shuttle's medical station, where Clemens assisted a Fell doctor with monitoring and treatment.

Hammond and the remaining marines walked across in their armoured suits, including Jennings who'd swapped clothes with Lew. Teller and Werrel each escorted one of the Gregor clones, while Kimura, now out of his suit supported Lew, in some borrowed clothes and with a bandaged head as disguise. The Fell troop commander watched the parade, eying the two Gregor clones in their brown silk Bharaputra clothing a little suspiciously.

He would be staying with his team to inspect the Bharaputra shuttle before local station space could be reopened to general traffic. Despite an obvious disapproval, he let them all board the Fell shuttle for the short voyage to the _Kanzian_. When all were transferred to the shuttle the officer closed hatch and it set off, past the station and around to _Kanzian's_ outer boarding hatch, where the injured where again taken off first, met at the outer hatch by three well prepared medical teams and whisked away to a more permanent and well appointed medical bay to commence their burns treatment.

Vortigan was waiting outside the airlock with a security detail to take the clones and the ImpSec men to their new quarters. He examined Lew with suspicion, wondering about the head injury and why he was wearing Barrayarran overalls, whereas the two Gregor clones were still in their brown silks. He gave Ivan and the three other officers a critical look up and down before instructing them get cleaned up, then report to his cabin in ninety minutes for the initial mission debriefing.

Hammond sent Sergeant Pyrios and the rest of his men to stow all the remaining equipment, get cleaned up and take two shifts of rest before reporting for duty. The officers headed up to their respective quarters for showers and replacement uniforms, and some refreshment before the debriefing.

Ivan was clean and dressed, though still feeling very tired, and still suffering from a nagging headache. He checked the time and decided he had enough to spare for a quick visit to the medical bay.

When he got there he found the clones at Natasha's bedside. She was on a drip and wrapped up to her neck in special burns dressings, while they prepared a full body bath for more permanent treatment. Ivan spoke to Werrel, who was taking first shift of the 'clone watch' until Teller was free. He also reported that Crozier was stable and Lessing was still alive but on an artificial respirator. The medics had started careful preparations to put both of them into cryogenic storage until they got back to Barrayar: the internal respiratory damage was too severe for their limited facilities to guarantee a full recovery.

Ivan asked the senior ship's doctor if he would care to have some top class medical advice (the doctor said he'd be glad of it) then got Rowan on a com link to Fell station and asked her if she could consult with the team, particularly on the cryogenic preparation aspect, as that was one of her specialties. She promised to come over in half an hour.

Ivan returned to Natasha's bedside, where the three clones were looking very worried. One of the doctors had explained that although the burns were serious, she was not really in danger. She would be kept unconscious for much of the the early treatment, as the pain and discomfort would be substantial.

Lew, as the eldest was silently elected spokesman, "Captain, can we visit her please? The Lieutenant, er Teller and the doctors didn't want us to at all. I don't mean all the time, just now and maybe when she wakes up? She's been like our mother for nearly two years and," he finished in a rush, "even when she's unconscious she shouldn't really be left alone sir!"

"Leave it with me boys, but you can't camp out in here or get in the way of her treatment, right?"

All three nodded.

"I'll see what I can do. For you as well Sergeant Weller. I guess you want to be bunked nearby and you're going to need some backup too now Lieutenant Crozier's injured. I'd still like to keep Hutton with me, so I'll speak to the Commodore - any questions?"

"Yes sir. It would be best if me and Lieutenant Teller were housed with the clones, with guards outside and for escort if we move them, like for visiting here sir. I mentioned something like it to the Lieutenant earlier and he agreed we couldn't really do a good job on our own now - and sir, what about Lew here, what's the plan? I don't know if he should be with the G's or not."

"Good questions Sergeant. I'll have to check with the Commodore about the extra guards and I'll see what he thinks about your quarters. Good work by the way, downside and here too; please pass that on to the others. Now I've got a debrief with the Commodore in," he checked the time, "Damn, two minutes!" He left at a jog.

Ivan met the other three officers outside the Commodore's day cabin, the Barrayarans were in their best greens and the Kimura in his Dendarii greys. The Commodore's adjutant eyed them briefly before announcing them.

The Commodore was behind his desk as they entered but stood to accept their salutes, even nodding for Kimura's. Then he sat down, letting the three of them continue at attention for a few more seconds before giving them leave to stand at ease. "Well gentlemen - it's been a very costly mission, but before I form any further judgements I'd like to hear your initial reports. Colonel Hammond, please start."

Hammond described the drop in basic detail, the first team had already formed the outer perimeter, their own deployment towards the crater then how things had quickly gone wrong, with the missile attack and the incoming enemy ship. He related how the two elements had become separated in that scramble. He and his men had found another three surviving marines who joined them. As far as he had been able to ascertain, from his scouting the surface, there were no survivors above ground following the atomic blast, though with communications down it was difficult to be sure. He didn't have enough men to make a proper external or internal search and in the absence of any working communications he decided to head for the third level down according to the original plan. Hopefully to find either the clones or Captain Vorpatril's group. With no demolition charges heavy enough to blast through the floor and the central ramp and elevator shaft blocked by blast doors and rubble, they had to clear their way down the southern fire stairs. This was why they were so far behind Ivan's team.

When they reached the third level, some time after Ivan's group had left, they discovered signs of fierce fighting and followed obvious tracks down through the central ramps until they encountered the Captain and shortly afterwards the other members of his group in company with the clones and Miss Chenko. They also found the remains of Baron Bharaputra.

"Indeed? Well, that may be helpful, or perhaps not. Did you bring back any evidence of that?"

"Yes sir, Jennings had it in his backpack. He has left it in the medical bay cold storage.

"Good work. We'll go through the list of those missing in action later - Baron Fell says he's working hard to get back survivors and any remains the other Jacksonians on the ground can find. Along with our shuttles and fighters, which are still impounded. Now Captain Vorpatril, please give your report." He noticed that Ivan was swaying slightly, "Are you all right Captain?"

Kimura moved to support Ivan to a chair, "The Captain suffered a severe concussion during the fighting near the creche. His suit was nearly blown apart, then overheated when my repairs failed to work properly."

"Not your fault Kimura," objected Ivan.

"Is this true Hammond, why was I not informed?"

Hammond shifted uneasily, "We made field repairs and he seemed to recover afterwards. He was able to pilot the shuttle up and I was not aware of any concussion sir."

"S'right Commodore, didn't mention it."

"Why didn't you say something Vorpatril? Why didn't you Kimura?"

Ivan answered, "Didn't have chance sir - and really I felt fine until just now. Maybe I just need some sleep sir and I'll be fine."

"You'll go down to sick bay and be examined Captain. But if you feel up to it right now, can you explain how you - no, Hammond, you escort him down to the sick bay and see he gets some treatment - you aren't injured as well are you?"

"No sir, I'm right as rain. Except for the way things turned out with the men sir."

"Yes, we'll speak later; now get the Captain down to sick bay. Make sure your men have everything they need and let my adjutant know when your full report is ready."

"At once sir." He saluted before taking Ivan's arm and helping him up. Ivan looked very embarrassed, pale and shaky, even his salute was rather vague.

"Captain Kimura, would you please stay and take me through the details of what happened with you, Captain Vorpatril and the clones?"

"Of course Commodore. Where should I begin."

"You and your group were separated from Colonel Hammond early on..."

On the way down the corridor towards the elevator Ivan remembered about the extra guards and asked Hammond to make some arrangements to support the ImpSec men.

Rowan Durona was in the sick bay when they arrived and stood back to watch how the ships doctor dealt with the situation, nodding in satisfaction at his tests and procedures and frowning in consternation at the probable injuries sustained. Ivan was told to stripped and don a hospital gown, then poked, prodded, physically examined and run through the sick bay's small brain scanner, which confirmed the seriousness of the concussion damage. He was outfitted with a neck brace and given a bed in one of the sick bay rooms.

Doctor Yosarian finished looking at Ivan's chart and gave him the prognosis, "You're out of commission for at least two weeks Captain, and you may need some treatment when we get back to Barrayar. We'll have to keep giving you cognitive tests I'm afraid - I know they can be irritating, but we have to keep an eye on your progress in case anything more serious shows up. You will probably experience periods of drowsiness, dizziness and confusion over the next week or so, as the inflammation diminishes. I don't think there'll be any permanent damage, but you may always have trouble remembering details from around the time of the injury. Havers will be along soon to make sure you're comfortable, and I'll examine you again tomorrow."

Rowan stepped forward then, "I'd be happy to keep him company for a while Doctor Yosarian, until I'm needed elsewhere - I'll call you if there's any development."

"That's very good of you Doctor, and thanks again for the consultation on the Lieutenant earlier - most instructive. I'll pass your recommendations along when we make orbit back home."

"Thank you Doctor," she helped Ivan get his pillows arranged more comfortably while waiting for the ship's senior surgeon to move further away before she broached the subject of Bharaputra's clone.

"Now Captain, I need to ask you about the third clone. Clearly he isn't the Fell clone and from the glimpse I saw as they passed me in the corridor it looked like Bharaputra - can you confirm that?"

Ivan had been day dreaming and twitched his head to the right rather sharply to try and face her, though the neck brace made that impossible, "Woo, that's funny."

"What?" suspiciously.

"Just a dizzy thing, but it felt like my eyes were going funny too," he tried to move his head from right to left and back again, "That's really weird y'know? Like being in a flyer that's spinning out of control. I think I'll avoid doing that again!"

Rowan leaned over and pressed her palm lightly against his forehead, then lifted his eyelid, "Oh, oh. Don't move!" she ordered, before rushing off.

She found an orderly, who told her that Doctor Yosarian had just entered the clean room outside the burns treatment theatre and he asked what she wanted.

"It's Captain Vorpatril - the damage may be more serious than we thought and I need to see the plats from the scan Doctor Yosarian did earlier, stat!"

The man frowned, but took her to see one of the senior medics, to whom Rowan repeated her demand.

"Why do you think the concussion is more serious?"

"There could be a skull fracture or spinal damage which wasn't automatically highlighted by the scan. I could be wrong, but if I'm right then the Captain needs fully immobilising stat!"

"Follow me," he led off around the side of the theatre to a secure medical terminal and logged on, searched for and brought up the set of plats and cycled through them for her. He magnified the third one and spun the axis in three dimensions while Rowan looked over his shoulder, until the view was from below the base of the skull.

"There!" she pointed, "Can you set it to detect and highlight any hairline fractures?"

The medic fiddled with the options and there was a brightening, highlighting a faint semicircular fracture just where the spinal chord came through the base of the skull.

"I think that fracture may be breaking away, with further movement. Probably kept in place initially by the suit's helmet do you think?" she asked him, trying to bring him in on her side without making it seem their doctor's fault.

"Could be ma'am, they're designed for that after all. Field medics know to be careful getting them off if there might be head injuries, but the Captain was already out and didn't report at the time. Came in later while I was still busy preparing the lieutenant you helped us with. The Captain said it was just a concussion and the Colonel confirmed it." He clenched his teeth before admitting, "I agree though - this looks bad," he locked the screen and waved her out into the passage.

She followed him as he went and found the junior surgeon, in an office along from the main sick bay. She waited at the door and let the medic explain. The other doctor was unhappy, but clearly trusted the medic's judgement - which didn't stop him checking the plats before swearing and rushing off to arrange for Ivan's neck to be fully immobilised.

A little later she sat with him again, "Yes, we caught it in time. It's one of those odd little things that can slip through when you have a triage situation - three serious burns come in and then something that seems relatively minor. If it was during a battle they'd have put the burns treatments off, but with no other cases they were up to their elbows in time critical preparations once they got started."

"Are you making excuses for them Doctor?"

"Not really. It can come down to specific experience and luck - medical research is pure science, but treating people in a pressurised situation has an element of art and luck to it. You can get fooled by people saying they feel OK or not mentioning symptoms they don't think are important. If you hadn't said something to me right then it could have gone right on not being noticed until.."

"I died?"

"Well, you'd probably have had started to experience trouble breathing before that, which would have alerted them - but the damage might be worse, so it was lucky you mentioned when you did."

"As opposed to earlier, huh?"

"Live and learn Captain - we all have to do that."

"And how are Natasha and Lieutenant Crozier?"

"They've done some surface preparations on the Lieutenant and are just about ready to start the exsanguination now."

"Bleed and freeze. So how is it that he's worse than Natasha, Miss Chenko?"

She smiled wisely, "He's lucky to survive at all - well they both are. Her burns aren't as deep because although they were both brief exposures, the plasma could dissipate, and just sort of wash over the surface of her skin. Not that it would have saved her with a longer exposure. Inside his suit, the Lieutenant got the full force pumped into a closed environment, which prevented it leaking away quickly once the source was removed. Even so it was unusual - those suits must have a very good heat dissipation system or he'd have been incinerated. Most of the burns were still external surface and bronchial rather than deep tissue. Deeper than Miss Chenko's though; hers can be treated here, but he'll be better off with deep grafts, which need time to grow and he wouldn't survive that long, not with the internal damage. The external treatment is just to prevent freeze burn going deeper through the damaged skin, which could cause separation later. It's something I've taught for the last few years, from experience gained indirectly courtesy of your cousin. The other trooper already had deep tissue damage, so freezing him immediately was the best route."

"Hm? So Lieutenant... er... an' Natasha... will... recover?"

Rowan suspected he was exaggerating his tiredness now, and smiled crookedly, "Yes Captain, she'll be fine in a month or six weeks, maybe a bit tender but fine, really."

"Ah, good. Hm..."

Ivan eased down in the bed. She watched him for a minute before going in search of Kimura, who she found on his own at a table in the officer's mess.

"Ah, Doctor, there you are! How are the Baron's treatments going?"

She took a seat opposite, ignoring the envious looks of several junior Barrayaran officers who seemed to have avoided sitting near the grey clad mercenary, "How are you feeling Captain?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I heard that Captain Vorpatril's injuries were more serious than we thought though?"

"Really? The rumour mill must be in high gear!"

"I was still in the Commodore's cabin when the medics reported back the second time."

"Ah, well we have stabilised him now - so he should be fine in a week or two. The young woman will recover a bit more slowly, but fully as well; and the lieutenant once his treatment is all done. They're freezing him now."

Kimura shivered, "I was lucky, I know," he paused reflectively, "Yes, it's high time I got out of this game."

"I remember, you said this was your last mission before you retired." She hesitated, "I was hoping you might extend your parameters a little."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, "You have a proposition for me?"

"A suggestion only - no pressure, if you feel it would be too risky - it's not straight combat, so it is something you'd want to give some thought to if you don't just reject it out of hand."

"Go on."

"With both the Lieutenant and the Captain out of action I would prefer a - I don't mean to be negative about the Commodore's proposed arrangements, but I would prefer you as a bodyguard and security consultant, if you'd be willing. I believe it could be worth an extra fee - I don't mean to insult your honour, if you're like these Barrayarans, who seem to have ambiguous feelings about being paid!"

"Don't worry, you can't insult me just by offering money - as long as the job itself is honest."

"But would you be able to accept the additional payment or would the Dendarii eat it all up?"

Kimura smiled smugly, "Quinn made it an independent contract. She arranged it as a sort of retirement bonus, and she made sure it was at the full rate so Barrayar doesn't get the idea the full fees are padded. So any extra will go to me, to my retirement fund."

"Oh good. Where do intend to retire, have you decided yet?"

"I plan to travel a bit, as a civilian; stop along the way and see where I like best. I'll probably be taking work as well, to set against my travel costs - security consultant perhaps," he smiled, "I can always change my mind before I settle somewhere, but I'm not one of those who are fully happy staying in space - not like Admiral Quinn."

"If you get bored of retirement there are less dangerous ways to make a living. For instance we are considering a joint venture in cryo recovery - picking people up from outlying facilities which have preparation and storage but no established cryo revival facilities. We would be looking for military or security trained people to go out with cryo technicians, to look after them and help arrange transport back if the patient is recoverable. People like to know sooner - it can be distressing to think a loved one can be recovered only to find out it wasn't possible, and expensive to have the body returned for local burial. Some people are very particular about that and yet the insurance rarely covers it. It's a niche we identified partly from our occasional work for the Dendarii."

"Hm, yes we have put some business your way over the years haven't we?"

"From the start if you count Lord Mark helping set us up on Escobar."

"Er, well he's not generally accepted as a Dendarri, no. But I know we've used your clinic for some of our cryo revivals from not long after that - was that Mark's influence then?"

"Maybe, via his progenitor. I still tend to think of Mark as the admiral and Miles as 'the other one' even after it got cleared up. Remarkable people."

"Yeah! So, you want me to hang around and do bodyguard duty huh?"

"I hope you will. Have you met the Baron before?"

"Not to speak to, no, but I have studied him as a major player in Jacksons' local space and jump points, both this time and before the first raid, when we abducted Bharaputra."

"Then perhaps you'd like to come back with me now and see what you think of him in person before you make a final decision - but bear in mind he's relaxing now under my orders, so not quite as authoritarian as usual."

"Sounds good - I'll just go and get cleaned up."

"Me too - I'll buzz you when I'm ready."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

The Baron was lying with his eyes closed and his face relaxed, but Rowan knew better than to assume he was asleep. Her suspicion was confirmed when he open his eyes as soon as she said, "I'll just check if it's all right to..."

He blinked disingenuously, "What? Oh, Doctor Durona! How good of you to visit me again so soon. So, how were the Lieutenant and the young lady, not too badly burned I hope?" He looked questioningly at Kimura, though he must already have been told who accompanied her onto the station, else heads would roll.

"Captain Kimura of the Dendarii Free Mercenary company, currently acting as a military advisor on the mission."

"Ah yes, Captain. You have just returned with Captain Vorpatril and the clones I hear, and you were on that Dendarii mission that abducted Bharaputra himself some years ago?"

"Yes sir, I led that team."

"With great success! If you ever feel the appeal of a more fixed existence do contact me, I can always find a position for an energetic commander."

"Actually I hope to settle down to something a little less risky, once we get back to Escobar."

"Indeed? A shame. Although the good doctor was extolling the virtues of life on Escobar earlier. I must admit she made it sound quite appealing."

"Are you considering retirement Baron?" Kimura let his surprise show.

"Certainly not! Not officially no, though one does tire of the stupidity of some of my fellow Barons. So Captain Kimura, I believe that I have you and our mutual allies to thank for removing Bharaputra from future temptation?"

"Not me personally Baron Fell, I believe it was er, one of the clones that did the honours. The Barryaran agent helped as well."

"Relax Captain, we are all friends here, is that not so Doctor - you have my life in your hands after all."

"I think that your own people have that honour Baron. I provide the method, but they apply it."

"A valid point, Doctor. But Captain, you needn't worry about mentioning the agent's name, I already know of her. Besides the other Houses will be examining Luigi's staff records by now."

Kimura looked uncertain about that.

Fell smiled, "The staff records have her as Natasha Greeling, but her real, Barrayaran name is Natasha Chenko. She made herself useful to me in some minor ways - but do not think that she compromised her cover at all. It would have been more suspicious not to have dealt with me. I had my own information that put pressure on her you see. She was quite faithful to Barrayar, but I already knew she worked for them and was not, as she claimed, a freelancer looking for information about some imaginary clone sisters."

Kimura shrugged, "Baron, Captain Vorpatril led the mission - they told me very little and she didn't speak to me at all - she was too badly injured."

"Doctor? Surely we are past these foolish games?"

Rowan considered before answering, "Miss Chenko is in no position to confirm anything I'm afraid - her burns are extensive and she'll be sedated for about ten days. The Captain certainly didn't know who she was in advance, but as you say the Bharaputran security was disintegrating along with Luigi's mind and her dossier and photographs will certainly be getting a closer look by now. I have the impression, but only an impression, that she too may be retiring. Either way she's not likely to come back here."

"No, we're not exactly a tourist destination - excepting the occasional sophisticate who hasn't heard of Ry's demise, and generally they are disappointed by his recent imitators. He was disgusting even to me, but he did have a certain perverse style. So Captain, what have you in mind for your retirement? The good Doctor was trying to interest me in one of those Komarran Grand Tours or something similar."

"I certainly couldn't afford that sir, though I do think I might travel before deciding where to settle down. I'm certified in general engineering, basic engine and weapons repairs and external repairs - pressure suit work. I thought I'd travel as crew, maybe on one of the Komarran merchant convoys - maybe invest some of my savings, though not all."

"Not a bad plan. Just make sure they aren't stopping here next time eh?" the Baron laughed at his own quip, then fell back breathing heavily.

"Ah, Baron," soothed Rowan, "We are tiring you," she ignored his waved denial, "I just wanted to introduce the Captain," she raised her brows at Kimura and he nodded, and flashed a hint of a smile, "I think he may be staying to watch over me for a while, until we get your treatment finished. I have to convince the Commodore yet, but with the Lieutenant and the Captain both badly injured we needed to rearrange the personnel."

Fell's eyes opened wider, "Captain Vorpatril injured?" Durona nodded, "Why was I not informed? Well, the Commodore is close lipped... Please convey my commiserations and best wishes to them - I enjoyed the Captain's company. An interesting man, not quite as naive as he seemed at first. I look forwards to further chats Captain Kimura. I'll inform my guard captain of the change in personnel - please let him know if there's anyone else won't you?"

"Certainly Baron. Now, I think you should get some more rest - I'll come back in about six hours for the next set of tests, but I think we should be able to progress on schedule."

"Good! Progress..? Yes, that reminds me - must be tireder than I thought! The Commodore's lost sheep - negotiations are progressing, slowly but without any real hitches, the others are just dragging their heels for spite. Please let the Commodore know that I expect to have another update, " he checked the clock on the bulkhead, "around the time you get back here, six to seven hours. It won't be a return as yet, but maybe a confirmation that a return can be agreed, with some concessions of course."

"Of course?"

"They'll want to keep the weapons and shuttles. I expect the damaged shuttles will have to be left but those that can still fly will be allowed to be removed. Pass a warning along to the Barrayarans - they'll need to have some engineers and spares ready, if they're allowed to collect the shuttles; for any simple repairs like overloaded couplings or whatever. House Dyne are being reasonable about the personnel and remains: they'll only allow a few hours for his own people to check for remains - unarmed and escorted, of course."

"We'll pass that on Baron. Now relax and get some sleep if you want to be ready for the next stage on schedule, understood?"

"Understood Doctor - I must admit that these treatments, although I do feel better, I also feel tireder. I trust that will pass?"

"It should do, but not for some time, and the less you rest now, the longer it will take."

"Yes, yes. Go and explain it to your Commodore, and don't forget - best wishes for the Captain's recovery too, and the others," with a last wave as they exited, he slumped back and closed his eyes again.

On his return to the _Kanzian_, Kimura stopped by the sick bay but Ivan was asleep and the orderly wouldn't allow him to be disturbed - Kimura asked about Vorpatril's progress but was told bluntly that it was too early to be sure, maybe full recovery but the Captain needed his rest. Kimura saw the clones further along were visiting with Natasha though, so he went and joined them.

She was still awake but woozy following the hourly progress checks. She recognised him straight away, "Hi Kimura, how are ya?"

"I'm good Miss Chenko, are you feeling any better?"

"Jus' call me Natasha, everyone does," she spoke slowly and paused between sentences, or even in the middle of them, "Wanted, to thank you for helpin' - boys tol' me you save' me."

"Actually I think it was more the other way around Miss, Natasha. You attacked Bharaputra with your bare hands! Then Lew blew him with his plasma arc, from what I was told. I was out of it by then, but you certainly impressed the marines. I'm very sorry it got you so er, burned though."

"Huh, nearly got out, before Luigi caught us. Big fuck up, whole thing. Lots dead huh?"

"Yes, it didn't go according to plan, but then these operations never do. Er, can I ask you about something - because it looks like I'll be staying on Fell station and I'll probably be asked?"

"Wha's that?"

"Well, two things really. Firstly what happened to Fell's clone - I think you might know about that, yes?"

She started to nod, but winced at discomfort from her neck movement, "Yeah. Li'l Goerish? The Baron, Luigi, he'd given him some sorta bug, a virus to make him bad for Baron Fell, so couldn't use kid for transplan' - but went wrong an he 'came a vegetable. Poor kid, never hurt no one. Like my boys, but that was 'fore I got there. Found out about it jus't after I got transferred. Suffered a bad seizure a while back, so it's just a brain-dead body in a lab tank now. Cavilo did it I think - the vegetable bit. Whole brain virus her idea cosa somethin' to do wi' Naismith."

"The Admiral? Cavilo, the Randal's Rangers commander?"

"Yeah, Randals," she seemed to be fading now, "Nasty bitch, set Lotus against Luigi too - got 'em all killed in the end. Wa' was other question?"

"Lew. I don't understand why Bharaputra needed him - Lew's about twelve years old?"

"Yeah?"

"But the Baron wasn't due for another transplant for another forty or fifty years. so why..?"

"Oh, that. He'd started another Lotus clone, and he made Lew at the same time - so they could both renew together or something. I don't think he meant to, and her clone died suspiciously a few years back - so Lew was just a backup, for emergencies or spare parts I guess. I never had a good chance to ask

"Ah, that makes a kind of sense, or would to Luigi I guess. I don't think Fell knows about Lew - but if he finds out, will that be a problem?"

Unfortunately that upset her, "Yeah! Musn' tell him! Gotta save Lew cos' he's important - Barrayar needs Lew for develop counter measure, yeah! Gotta protec' Lew. Gotta protect Lew - tell Captain Vorpat'l, protec' Lew!" Then she passed out and the medical orderly, attracted by a medical sensor alarm, hustled them out angrily.

Kimura considered what she'd said. It seemed like her testimony about the Fell clone might be of interest to Fell, although he didn't think the Baron hadn't asked about it yet. The young Bharaputra clone though, her outburst about him being important was worryingly vague. He'd mention it to Captain Vorpatril if he got in to see him before they left, or to the Commodore. First he'd sleep on it though - it had been a long and stressful day, so he'd be glad to get some sack time before making his farewells.

Vortigan had his sleep cycle interrupted again, but this time the news was better. Fell's face looked less stressed than the day before and a little smug, "Commodore, I have some good news at last!" Vortigan inclined his head cautiously and the Baron continued, "Yes, it's about your lost sheep - the shuttle pilots."

"You have secured their release? Good!"

"Yes, I just got confirmation - the first shuttles are due to leave Darrow base in the next hour. I managed to get them to return two of the four fighter shuttles and one of the drop shuttles - the others were too damaged to fly, and they won't allow you to stay in system any longer than it takes to collect your shuttles and men, though you can leave one patrol ship for tying up loose ends, and to take the doctor off once my treatment is finished."

"Leave three shuttles! And what about the remains of my men they're..."

"Please Commodore, let me finish!"

Vortigan frowned, "Very well, tell me the rest."

"Good. Your observers from team two, Lieutenants Canis and Makarov, are satisfied that all significant remains downside are already collected based on the information we have from Colonel Hammond and the other survivors. The lieutenants, your surviving pilots and... they found fifteen marine survivors in two groups that found cover in time. They'll all be sent up in the drop shuttle. Your fighter shuttles have had their weapons removed, including parts of the control systems..." Vortigan's face reddened in anger, "It was to be expected Commodore."

"And your shuttles Baron? What of them?"

"I will be paying a hefty fine, but after you have left the system, they will be returned. I have a long relationship with the other Houses Commodore, which you do not, and there is a limit to how far I can stretch that to cover you."

"But - your team took the other base, his main base, and they are allowing you to keep it?"

"Of course they are Commodore - I thought you understood that from the start."

"Yes, but why should they punish us and not you?"

"They are punishing me, but as far as they are concerned it was your mistake in attacking the research facility so clumsily that panicked Bharaputra into using that fire ship of his."

"What? That sounds like they already knew about it! If so why didn't you..."

"We knew nothing specific Commodore - but it was obvious there would be unknown defences, there always are, and particularly after the previous attack by the Dendarii. The nature of that ship was unknown of course, but the other Barons were nervous of Luigi since he became so unpredictable. Secretly they are relieved he's gone - though they wouldn't admit it to us."

"But three shuttles!"

"What would you have of me Commodore? Two of those shuttles are scrap, and that madman of yours, Zimmer, was lucky to survive at all, let alone walk away from the crash! Limp away. The remains of the other fighter pilot will be returned along with your other dead. It's the best I could do, and frankly Commodore I am astonished they let me have those shuttles at all - though perhaps they just wanted to leave the expense of decontamination to your own shipyards. I'm not so sure you come out ahead there, but you did make a point of wanting them back."

That gave Vortigan pause for thought, and he made a note to inform the shuttle bay to check their preparations included additional decontamination and shielding procedures. The chief had probably already anticipated the problem, since the explosion and shuttle damage was known.

"Very well. If I seem ungrateful Baron Fell, it is more a reaction to the situation than any resentment towards you or your people. May I ask what you intend to do with your new facilities - will they be a great asset to your House?"

"One facility Commodore. The Dyne-Hargreaves alliance is impounding the research facility for their own use - which was not unexpected under the circumstances. I was able to evacuate several prime research personnel back to the main Bharaputra complex."

"But they're letting you keep it? Why?"

"They trust me." Vortigan looked dubious, so Fell explained, "They are still interested in the clone brain transplant trade, for themselves as well as the business it brings to the system, both directly and indirectly. They think that I will be the best person to continue it, with my own interest in life extension and previous experience of my own transplant clones being harmed. So I understand the value of a proper guarantee against any such harm in the future. Also because no other raid on the clone creche could succeed if it was I who they had to attack."

"But, Doctor Dur..."

"Please! Commodore, there are some things best left unsaid. We all have our secrets and you would not want your own broadcast surely?"

"Oh. No I see what you mean. Well, please have your traffic control warn us when those shuttles lift off?"

"Of course. Now if you will excuse me, I am under doctor's order to get more rest."

Kimura awoke rested, then cleaned up and packed ready for transferring to Fell station. He was leaving his combat suit on board, which he didn't like but he had no choice, as the station security captain would not allow it on the station. He had an idea about that which he'd check now.

He stopped off in the marine's small office compartment, and found Werrel, "Sergeant, you look well."

"Ah, Captain, good to see you sir. You look well yourself, how can I help you?"

"It's my suit - you know I'll be staying on station to help guard the doctor until she's finished?"

"Sir?" said Werrel to avoid admitting either way.

Kimura smiled, "Well, I'd prefer to have my suit nearby - you never know when it might come in handy, maybe not here, but if it was on the patrol ship you're leaving - you do know about the patrol ship?"

Werrel's lip twitched, "The Rascal sir?"

"Rascal, I didn't know which it'd be - who's her captain?"

"Captain Reynard sir, he was in Captain Vorpatril's last command."

"They saw action against that Randal's Rangers pirate fleet?"

"S'right sir, they did well by all accounts."

"So I'd heard, no losses on your side as I heard it, is that true?"

"A few casualties sir, but no ships lost. They were more than those pirates expected - fast, manoeuvrable and they pack a punch. Yes sir, he's a capable commander, Captain Reynard, and so's Captain Vorpatril. You ain't too bad yourself in a scrap sir, if I may say so."

Kimura smirked, "Thanks. Coming from you I'll take that as a real compliment. Never did thank you did I - reckon you covered my back a few times down there - I appreciate it Sergeant."

The sergeant tried not to show his embarrassment, but Kimura could see he was pleased. What, didn't Hammond or Teller let him know how well he'd done? Planetary forces were weird, stiff necked. "You ever feel like a bit more action, mention my name to Admiral Quinn, the Dendarii can always use well trained experienced officers, might get a promotion if you can work that well under fire - not that many can y'know?"

"Sir! I do all right in the service. Got my place and my mates, good officers too, most... all of them. I don't think m'wife and daughter'd take too kindly to me gallivantin' off either sir!"

"No? Well, keep it in mind - or those troopers too, all did well I thought. Must get a bit boring guarding Komarran traders for months on end. Just a thought anyway. So, my suit? Who do I see about getting it transferred over to the scout ship, the Rascal? Is that definitely decided?"

"Not too sure sir, but I'll get the quartermaster to give you a call - we'll be transferring a coupla' men over with kit and extra supplies before we leave. QM'll check what else you need with it. You lost your wall clearer didn't you?"

"Ah, you've seen one before?"

"Seen most everything over the years, maybe not that model, but it did come in handy, so I'll ask the QM to see if he can find anything for loan just in case sir."

"Appreciate it Werrel. Maybe when we get back you can show me a few dives to pass the time, drinks on me eh?"

"Might know a few sir, not too dear and not too dirty if you know your dives?"

"Seen a few over the years. Look forward to it, and to the Quartermaster's call - I might be on the station, so er..."

"Mums the word sir, not details - keyed file and all that."

"Good, and thanks Sergeant," Kimura waved as he turned away.

He went to visit Ivan next, who was now awake if still not very sharp, "Captain? Am I alright to visit for a few minutes?"

"Alright? Yes I think so. Kimura? You got back alright then? I wasn't sure. I got hit on the head you know?"

A cold shiver went down Kimura's spine, he hadn't realised how bad the Captain's injury was. This man had piloted their shuttle back to orbit! He'd fought alongside Kimura, probably saved his life. Probably more than once. It reminded Kimura of one of his own men after cryo-recovery, a bad case of amnesia. They'd had to retire him to that care home on Escobar. Most of one wing had the long term recovering and unrecoverable Dendarii housed there. Escobar didn't love the Dendarii for their personalities, but they welcomed them back after every hard mission with a professionalism that hid a macabre financial glee. The local merchant fleets and some travelling business potentates had been known to hire a ship or two as well. It was a good arrangement, if less cheap than some places at least the Esco's were skilled and trustworthy, for the most part.

He looked into Ivan's eyes, "Captain, I was hoping you might be able to confirm the arrangements Doctor Durona has proposed, for my contract to be extended as her security consultant while she finishes the Baron's treatment on Fell station. I'd be accompanying her back to Escobar on the Rascal, Captain Reynard. Do you think that'd be alright sir?"

"Sure, OK by me - but shouldn't you be clearing it with the Commodore? Vortigan's a bit stiff, but he'll hear you out."

Kimura swallowed his reaction before answering, "Yes, of course I'll speak to him too, but I understood that you had a commission directly from your Emperor giving you overall authority of the rescue? Emperor's Voice or something?"

"Emperor's Voice! Are you sure?" His brow creased in concentration, before he gave up, "No, I'll have to defer to the Commodore..." He looked blank for a moment before something else occurred to him, "Dendarii special arrangement was it? Ah!" He nodded, tapped the side of his nose and winked conspiratorially.

Ivan's stage wink left Kimura momentarily speechless, but he soon recovered. "Right. Well, take care of yourself Captain, and I'll hope to see you better when I get back, if you haven't left for Barrayar anyway."

"Well yes, er good luck with your mission Captain and say 'Hi' to Miles if you see him eh? Er, oh, he died..? No that's right he got thawed out didn't he - well good luck anyway!"

Kimura fled up to the Commodores office.

Vortigan confirmed the secondment, though he reminded Kimura they required a breakdown of charges and expenses at some later date, as covered in the contract.

Kimura passed the end of the corridor leading across the ships midsection on his way to the station with his kit and saw them bringing the wounded pilots back. The wayward shuttles must have just docked.

Zimmer wasn't badly hurt, just a broken ankle, wrist and slight concussion that required a few days in the sick bay. The fighter pilot with the radiation exposure was still being given massive amounts of fluid replacement and all sorts of other medication, which had surprised Zimmer when he'd reached Darrow base, and the Jacksonians had been quite respectful - but then no Dyne troops had been in the line of fire had they?

The squadron leader, Captain Durrel was a piece of work, but the other fighter pilots weren't so bad, if rather cool. You'd think Zimmer had blown the ship deliberately! All he'd done was try and help. Even Barrington, the other drop shuttle pilot, was keeping his distance. Though they'd never been close, Barrington had always been friendly enough, until Zimmer had been stretchered in. So the only visitor he'd had in the makeshift ward had been Durrel. Depressing.

Well, at least he'd made it back to the _Kanzian_! There had been times he'd wondered if they might have been put in prison and never seen home again. With those Jacksonians you never knew, maybe slavery or even being cut up for spare parts - all sorts of bizarre stories had circulated around the academy a few years back. Genetically bred sex slaves, insatiable femme fatales, weird dwarf acts and everything in between including some that had kept him awake in the dorms - and not in a good way!

The medic took him straight through, ran the medical the scanner over him, changed his dressings and tightened the splints. Generally they were happy with his treatment so far, though because of his his concussion they ran additional scans on his head; but eventually they were satisfied. Now he relaxed back into the soft pillow, letting his mind stray to his reception back home in Hassadar. His girlfriend had dumped him for a moneybags, but there were still his friends and their friends and their sisters. He wouldn't even have to exaggerate this time to keep the girls interested, maybe the reverse in fact. Thinking it through it did seem a bit unlikely, the whole tractor beam slingshot manoeuvre. Definitely not in the manual that one. As Captain Durrel had pointed out at great length, and in minutely repetitive detail in regards to how many different ways it could have gone even more wrong. He forced himself to stop thinking along those lines. What was he thinking about before that? Oh yes!

He closed his eyes to more properly remember the full perfection of Grinchov's younger sister, she'd be rising nineteen by now and if her mother was anything to go by she had a long future as a subject of male fantasies, both sexual, romantic and culinary - Grinchov's being the premier purveyor of pies in his home city. He sighed in contentment as his fantasy Katya Grinchov swooned at his heroism.

"Are you in pain Lieutenant Zimmer?" asked the Commodore.

He almost lost control of his bowels at the sudden change in the direction of his thoughts. He tried to turn his expression to something respectful instead of resentful as he blinked his eyes open, "Hello Commodore, sir. Not in pain, just a little achy, sir."

"Glad to hear it. The doctor tells me you have no serious injuries and could be back on duty by the end of the week depending how the inquiry turns out."

Oh yes, the inquiry. Zimmer swallowed nervously.

Vortigan continued, "I was not very happy with your loss of the shuttle, but I now believe that the inquiry will clear you, though the loss will remain in your record."

"Clear me sir?" whispered Zimmer hopefully. Captain Durrel had been rather certain of the opposite result.

"Baron Fell got the traffic control recordings for us, and the ground controllers are supportive of the idea that your - and let me stress this now lieutenant, your absolutely reckless manoeuvre - did divert the course of the transport downwards by almost four degrees, which was enough that hardly any wreckage hit the immediate area of the facility. Since the rest of the area is trackless and almost lifeless desert the only real damage done was due to the aerial detonation of the atomic device on board that ship. That was also the cause of the destruction of the last fighter shuttle to make it's attack run, with the loss of Lieutenant Trencher."

Zimmer swallowed, "Yes sir."

"The ship might well have exploded around that time in any case - we have no physical evidence yet either way, just theories. The most compelling theory is that the ship was always meant to detonate in the air, since Baron Bharaputra would not have been in the facility if the ship was designed to detonate on impact. I find that somewhat reassuring, and so may you."

Zimmer's, "Yes sir," was more hopeful this time.

"More importantly, if that ship had either impacted or exploded later and closer above the facility it would have done more damage - certainly killing those marines who survived outside, and probably dozens of the civilian technicians, scientists and their children on the facility's upper floors. So I would estimate that your, your precipitate intervention probably saved upwards of thirty lives. I think that even lieutenant Trencher might have done the same if he'd known that. I will repeat though - next time you will explain yourself first. If Durrel had known what you were doing he might have withdrawn his fighters, or I might have ordered it."

Zimmer's face fell.

Vortigan's mouth twitched up at the corners - nothing as obvious as a smile, "Under these particular circumstances it worked - so stop feeling sorry for yourself Lieutenant. Do think of a good explanation for why you felt justified in such blatant insubordination, and risk to service equipment though - I'd like the inquiry to have some supportive evidence from you, to the effect that you actually knew what you were doing, and perhaps an excuse for not telling us before hand. Work on your wording and delivery eh?"

Then the Commodore did actually smile, to show he meant his suggestions supportively! Zimmer had hardly ever seen the man smile. He nodded seriously, but his own lip twitched up tentatively as well, "Thank you sir, for letting me know about that ground control evidence. I was feeling guilty about Trencher, he was a good pilot sir, a good man."

"Yes, he was. I will be writing to his family soon and we'll be having the service of remembrance before we ship out tomorrow. I'd like you to attend if you feel up to it. Don't worry about Durrel, I've spoken to him and he now accepts that however startling your intervention was it was justified and there was probably nothing he or Trencher could have done differently without knowing about the bomb on board. I did not suspect it, though Baron Fell claims to have had some inkling which he nevertheless did not share - so personally I doubt that he knew any differently from us. Anyway Lieutenant, take it easy and recover as fast as you can. The orderly will help you get ready for the remembrance service tomorrow, and Commander Whitall will discuss the inquiry with you - he'll be your advocate, as well as Lieutenant Kavanagh, your legal council. As I said, it's a serious business, but I don't think you need worry too much - just work out the best way to present your evidence. I've had to endure a couple of inquiries myself, so I know what I'm talking about - from both sides actually."

"You've been a defendant sir?" Zimmer asked, surprised.

"Yes, and an advocate in other hearings. It's not that unusual in the service, sometime during their career rather more than half of all officers, and more like three quarters as you get above Captain have had some sort of significant enquiry - loss of ship, including shuttles - you aren't the first and won't be the last - death of their men in or out of action, and the less savoury accusations of theft, insubordination," he looked Zimmer in the eye wryly, "assault on a subordinate or superior officer. The list goes on and the process is much the same. In a way its good to have one early in your career, and avoid it happening again, eh? Watch how Commander Whitall handles - you may be in that role yourself one day."

The Commodore held Zimmer's eye until he nodded, "Well, that's all I came to say. I can see you're being cared for and I've put your mind at rest - so you can recover more quickly," the Commodore smiled, saluted, which confused Zimmer, since he couldn't respond out of uniform, so he just nodded again.

Vortigan left and Zimmer pondered the unpredictability of his superiors. He closed his eyes, but couldn't get Katya Grinchov's face back clearly in his mind's eye. Then the orderly came in and fussed about, getting him tidy before the doctor came to examine him again.

Vortigan visited Captain Vorpatril too, and as Kimura had stated the captain was very disorientated, his memory of events still too patchy to be of immediate use in any discussions or enquiries into recent events. The agent, Miss Chenko was still too heavily drugged to be much use either. He had already interviewed the observers with the Fell troops, Lieutenants Canis and Makarov, who confirmed that Fell's troops had secured the main Bharaputran facility efficiently and without much damage or loss of life on either side. It seemed that Fell himself had contacted the facility manager, a man called Doum, and smoothed the way for a surrender once the situation at the other facility became clear. In the interim there had been some skirmishes, including a few that Canis or Makarov had witnessed, but the two men had already left for the research complex before the Fetain had been found. The substance was a biological warfare weapon developed on Barrayar many years earlier to instil terror in other Barrayarans because of its damaging genetic effects and high permeability factor.

It seemed likely that Bharaputra had been expecting some sort of raid. The existence of the special clone creche at the research facility could originally have been to keep Fell's clone hidden. Alternatively, Bharaputra may have anticipated attacks on either facility with the Fetain at the main facility clone creche, and the orbital transport ship armed and ready to drop on the research facility, if the Barrayarans learned of it's importance.

He reached the antechamber of his day cabin and main office, nodded to his adjutant who confirmed, "Nothing new sir," as he strolled past.

With the door shut, he sat and breathed out tiredly.

He needed to check the route home and confirm it with the Komarran commodore too. He'd had very little contact with the man, having left most of it to his adjutant and the fleet liaison officer on the Komarran flagship. The liaison arrangement worked well - having a regular navy officer aboard was a boon to everyone else. He made a quick note to check the officer's communications and possibly mention him in his own report. The complaints had been passed on of course, but he hadn't had to deal with them himself. That couldn't last; he'd have to meet with the Komarran commodore before they returned to Barrayaran space, so that he could defuse some of the complaints before they were officially forwarded to the admiralty as complaints against his command. Unofficial complaints would usually be ignored, officially. There wasn't much he could do about the main complaint, about the rerouting and the raid, but that had been understood from the start. In any case most of the Komarran captains knew their escorts might be used for other purposes at need, so even they would only be going through the motions.

There was no real choice in the route home. It would be too expensive on the Komarrans to turn around and go back via Escobar. They'd skip the side trip to Beta now, since Crozier was safely frozen and could wait for trans-shipping to Escobar, if necessary. Vorpatril and Chenko could continue their recover en-route and should be much better by the time they made orbit over Komarr. At that point he could consult the local ImpSec chief for orders on their disposition. Vorpatril and the woman back home to Barrayar, Kimura and the lady doctor, once Rascal got back back and after debriefing, would also be shipped back to Escobar - if they made good time, they could escort Crozier's body to whichever clinic got the revival contract, possibly the Durona clinic?

He needed to confirm their expected timetable with Doctor Durona as well, and he made a note to do so at the start of the next station shift - she'd be asleep just now. Kimura had mentioned that she was on a half-shift cycle to better monitor the Baron's progress - apparently the old man was improving in line with expectations.

The Commodore processed the routine authorisation and approval requests, reviewed the daily reports and the casualty list, transferring the list for consideration of awards, the dead for condolence messages, the debrief transcripts for later scanning, possibly also feeding back to the awards and promotions list. He realised he was delaying some of the work, but a brief consideration confirmed that none of it was actually needed yet. So he could let his back brain work on the data, improve wording and rationalisations.

He suddenly realised he hadn't eaten for the whole shift and ordered a chicken flavoured protein salad, he was still watching his weight, although his recent worries did seem to have burned some fat off. He tried to remember the last time he'd made decisions on the fly like young Zimmer, without considering the professional or wider consequences - probably Hegan Hub he thought. Vervain space really, though the Hub got the battle honours of the name due to the subsequent treaty.

Doctor Durona was not keeping to her planned shift patterns any more. Baron Fell had responded to the second treatment very well, and would be ready for the age regression treatment within days - ahead of schedule. She stopped on the way back to her station quarters to mention this to Doctor Emanuel, the Baron's chief of internal medicine, and she thought she detected an unexpected lack of enthusiasm.

"Problem Doctor?" she queried.

"What? No of course not, it's just unexpected is all - I'll need to have the technicians reschedule the next two biopsies and tests. No, no problem - glad to hear it in fact! Yes, the Baron's been restless, it'll be good to get it all over with. Very good work by the way - not just your help but your clinic's fantastic achievement! Really fantastic. If it wasn't for the Baron - our Baron I mean, taking over Bharaputra's facility downside..."

Rowan frowned at Emanuel, and he tried to clarify himself, "Our Baron was never really an enthusiast about the clone transplant trade you know? Of course you do, you came from the planet yourself... Sorry, I'm prattling aren't I - it must be the excitement, of the upcoming treatment. The Baron will be so pleased, better late than never. I'm sorry, I mean he was waiting for the transplant then so disappointed and now the clone's... I heard that his own clone wasn't recovered. Even though it was useless for his treatment... Sorry, I am not making sense - my family you see, they were injured in an accident yesterday. It was a shock," he waved away Rowan's look of concern, "What was I saying? Oh, your treatment - not late at all, I was referring to the unfortunate delays with the clone, Baron Fell's I mean. Sorry, I'm sorry - I've had trouble sleeping you see. I believe I'll take some medication, yes that's best I think," he nodded decisively, "So thank you Doctor - your work, very good, I'm sorry for, for the confusion. Yes, the tests will be brought forward, I'll arrange it now. Then I'd better go and get some rest. Goodbye."

The man turned and walked off leaving Rowan nonplussed. She was sorry for him of course, if his family had been injured - that must be a distraction. She decided she'd ask about it next shift. She yawned. Going onto a half-shift rota was always a strain, the human body just wasn't designed for a four-hours-on four-off cycle, but she refused to take drugs to force her body's compliance unless absolutely necessary - she respected her brain's chemistry too much. She closed her cabin door, cleaned her teeth and lay down, thinking about Escobar and her clone sisters back at the clinic. Even though she was twice as well travelled as any of the others she still longed for the security of a fixed home and known associates. Maybe there were differences between natural humans and clones. Studies had been done, thousands of them, and nothing ever proven, but - well, maybe it was the lack of natural parents, so common to the clone condition? She fell asleep looking for some commonality with the natural born humans she'd known.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"I still don't understand why you didn't tell me sooner," Miles was exasperated. Gregor had called him now, when it was too late for him to make any meaningful contribution. "You trust me as an Imperial Auditor: why did't you trust me to be dispassionate about this?"

Miles had been collected direct from the shuttleport for a the meeting in Gregor's tower office over the palace museum. He was due to go down to Hassadar tomorrow to follow up on the orphan's home debacle.

Gregor preempted General Guy Allegre, "It is not a lack of trust in your abilities Count Vorkosigan..."

"It sure as hell sounds like it!" Miles growled, before nodding to Gregor and adding,"Sire."

Gregor grimaced, "Your own experiences there were a mixed success," he held a forestalling hand up as Miles struggled with another outburst, "Please listen. We did ask for Quinn's input and her best advisor, Captain Kimura - I know you trusted him yourself, and he delivered!"

Perhaps the somewhat sketchy memories were at last kicking in - whether real memories or digested reports of the old mission that ended with his own death, either way the Emperor took the resulting calm as encouragement to continue, "Ivan isn't the feckless rake of ten or even five years ago, and you know it. Have you read the reports of his most recent command?"

"Yeah, I also saw him on that woman's bloody gossip show, they were playing the recording on the flight down - you can't say he did well there, Sire."

"No. He can still be a bloody fool. Allegre checked into it but it wasn't Ivan's fault, not really."

"Excuses," muttered Miles.

"That woman," the Gregor enunciated with distaste, "invented, or at the very least exaggerated his interest in her. That Ivan actually could say no - even you have to admit that's some progress towards a more mature outlook."

Even the Emperor had picked up Lady Vorpatril's term for Rebecca Toscane. Miles had heard, through some undisclosed and doubtless arcane route to Pym, that even the Empress Laisa referred to her cousin thus. He smirked, regaining some small perspective perhaps.

"Long past time! And yes, I read the report on his last mission and it was good, on the whole. Ivan's bravery and command potential has never seriously been in question. It's his - I don't even know how to put it coherently, never having had to be part of his chain of command. No, I remember seeing something in one of Duv Galini's assessments back on Earth years ago - very erudite," Miles paused for effect, to be sure he had their full attention, before quoting, "'Lieutenant Vorpatril observes the military and social code with a lawyer's attention to detail until he is forced make a decision of his own. At that point the outcome rests in the lap of the gods.'"

Gregor sniggered sedately, and Allegre smiled with only slightly more control.

Gregor recovered first, "You have to admit though that his results are generally good - female casualties aside, and none of those has been fatal. Your own performance was generally, how did Simon put it? Oh yes, your results were exceptional, however you generally exceeded expectations by so much that it could be difficult to cope with those results!"

"Yeah well, any job worth doing, et cetera."

"Well then. Back to the report. Without the, understandable outbursts please, what do you make of it?"

Miles' breath huffed out, as he let his exasperation dissipate. He leant forwards, elbows on knees, his concentration on the situation many light years distant, "I don't know Vortigan, but his record's good enough - doesn't seem too rigid. Seems he supported going ahead with the raid, with understandable reservations, mostly to do with his lack of trust in Fell. I think you tied that down well though - remind me to congratulate Mark on his investment," he smirked, "So bar any unexpected double crosses on that side, we only have to worry about Bharaputra's slippery nature, all the other Jasksonian Houses reaction to our declaring war on their planet - and the usual unpredictable nature of any mission."

Gregor waited calmly for the real meat of the assessment.

"Right. We believe Bharaputra know's he's under observation by our ImpSec agents. So it's a scramble to catch up with Lovable Luigi's reaction because he's discovered he's been rumbled? What does he do? Until we get the next update we just don't know! What's this agent like? This," he checked the name mentally, "Chenko woman - it seems like Simon rated her highly, what's your assessment General?"

Allegre pursed his lips before answering, "Well my Lord Auditor..."

"You've been calling me Miles for years Guy, and it saves time if nothing else."

"Very well Miles. Due to some organisational loopholes, I didn't personally know she existed until I received the report about Cavilo having been at Bharaputra's..."

There was a long pause, "It all goes back, or at least it gets more strange starting just before I took over. I'm sure you remember General Lucas Haroche?"

That threw Miles so much that he just waved Allegre on.

"Yes, it surprised us too," Gregor smirked wickedly.

Allegre explained, "It seemed that after reading your confidential files, Harroche decided to see what else was in Simon's special files - and he found Natasha Chenko. She was even more secret than you - although her existence had been mentioned to the Emperor, the nature of most of her missions had not," Gregor's brow creased in irritation, "In short she was an extremely effective intelligence gatherer for Simon... A deep cover penetration agent and occasional assassin."

Miles wasn't as shocked as they seemed to expect, and besides, "And what did Haroche make of that?"

"Luckily, very little."

"Then why..."

"He issued her only one order before you shut him down, unfortunately he also destroyed her local files."

"Simon's..?"

"Yes, but also her main employment records and other evidence, so that I never even knew to look for her."

"But... she wasn't being paid?"

"After a previous security leak, Simon set up an arrangement for deep cover operatives to be paid as confidential informants, no links to their personnel records. As long as their expenses were reasonable they were virtually untraceable. So she submitted her personal reports through the designated channel, which Lucas set to divert into a secure local file, not automatically forwarded home, no one thought to report anything unusual. Her official expenses were always within reason..."

"Official?"

"She managed to fund her wilder escapades from local criminals' funds."

"What was she doing?"

"What Lucas had ordered her to do - search out threats to Barrayar, starting with a certain rogue mercenary fleet commander - Cavilo."

"That was ten years ago - what's she been doing in between?"

"She'd already been responsible for a few intelligence coups, and even then she avoided taking official credit. She arranged for other officers to do so, which has left us with something of a dilemma."

"Officially? Never mind - we can come back to it, but a few medals here and there isn't such a big deal surely?"

"There were some promotions too, but as you say, that's for another time. So she did more than a few good deeds along the way, mostly when she lost track of Cavilo, but she eventually picked up the trail again and followed it to Jacksons Whole."

"When was this?"

"Just over two years ago. She tracked Cavilo down to the planet and Bharaputra's main complex, where the trail was broken. It was the second time Cavilo had been there - the first was to negotiate a Deal, then a passing visit, the one Chenko trailed. But Cavilo had disappeared again - so Chenko was still trying to find a direction to follow when Cavilo reappeared and everything changed."

"Did you know who Chenko was yet?"

"No. Just that we had another informant in-system. There weren't many of my agents there as yet, but when Bharaputra began moving all the clones soon after Cavilo returned I ordered more in. He sent some of the clones off with custodians, to finish their growth and be transplanted at third party facilities. A lot of his own specialist surgeons have disappeared and we haven't been able to find them yet, but they left Jacksons Whole local space. Probably to a shielded station or moon in some neighbouring system," he looked at Miles who nodded, "We knew he'd been warned of something, but not what. Chenko couldn't get any detail about it and she felt that she should avoid the Cavilo woman. So she followed the remaining clones, the specials. I'd have advised the same - not that Chenko asked for instructions, ever. At that point the identity of the Emperor's clones was not known. If she suspected, she didn't tell us."

"Wait, you knew that Bharaputra was dispersing the clones, and with Cavilo's presence you suspected some connection to Barrayarar - I don't remember reading that in the reports..?" Miles waited suspiciously.

Allegre looked a little sheepishly at Gregor, "She didn't report any details about them, but we already had a few other agents in-system already - planet side, orbital and jump stations - as you'd expect it's long been a location of interest - would have been even without Bharaputra's obsession with your alter ego, and by then he knew your real identity," he paused for Miles to acknowledge the point, "But Bharaputra was a tough nut to crack - always seemed to sniff out our operatives," Gregor nodded sadly, "So despite her suspect history, Chenko was a gift - I had some of her previous missions identified by then - that she wasn't just an informant. Bharaputra was the one who we were most interested in, even without the Cavilo connection..."

Miles was getting impatient with the General's explanation, but he noted Gregor's patience, and simmered quietly.

"Although Chenko wasn't around to directly observe, she later forwarded detailed information of how began to fall apart for Bharaputra. We found out about the mutated meningeal virus, the brain rot Cavilo had infected Fell with, and how Cavilo had been setting the Bharaputra pair against each other, and had infected the Fell clone too. But she wasn't clever enough. Chenko's information said the Baron killed Cavilo, but had been aimed by Lotus.

"Then, about three months ago Chenko told us about the Emperor's clones. She'd managed to get herself assigned to look after them, realised who they were and was trying to gain their trust, in anticipation of finding a way to get them out. What came next made us very nervous, as you'll understand - Luigi discovered that Lotus had infected him with a similar virus to Baron Fell - so now neither of them could have a brain transplant..."

Miles frowned, most of this was in the reports, "Go on General - you have something new I think?"

"Maybe - only maybe ..."

Allegre picked up a glass of water from the table and with irritating slowness took a drink before continuing, "So she told us about the Emperor's clones and that there was some plot to destabilise the empire. With Bharaputra's terminal condition a short timetable was obvious," Allegre picked up his glass of water for another drink, nerves?

Miles had a bad feeling about Allegre's reluctance to get to the point, and his stomach was making it's presence felt, along with a twinge of nostalgia for the old vagus nerve attachment, removed during his cryo revival back on Jacksons Whole, many years ago. Illogically he wished Ivan could feel this - Miles was sure it must be partly Ivan's fault. Why should he feel any responsibility for a cousin who was actually older than him?

Allegre finally put the glass down and continued, "We still have no details of what the plot is, but substitution is most likely. With two clones, possibly a double substitution - an abduction disguising the assassination of the real Emperor. One clone sacrificed as a known substitute, and the other clone rescued? Who'd suspect two clones? Possibly in parallel with a military strike - set the Cetagandans up for the whole plot. Then the rescued clone interferes so we loose the war?"

"Surely they're too young to... Rapid ageing? Yes, it's a lot easier than the reverse. I can think of anther scenario - far-fetched and maybe you already discounted it? Using a dead, suitably decomposed clone body to throw doubt on the real Emperor? The best way would have been a child's body in the lake at Vorkosigan Surleu, and blame my father? No, too fantastic, and too late - never mind. So General, you'd found out there was a plot against the Emperor, and Chenko was in place. Your timetable was accelerated by Bharaputra's illness - all of this came to a head when? With relation to my movements."

"We'd sent in more agents. Requested further information from Chenko, but didn't get anything back from her for over a month. Other agents were arrested and expelled, or just disappeared. Then Chenko's next report arrived. She clarified the progress of Bharaputra's illness, his instability and further indications of advancing the timetable. Also her request for extraction of her and the clones."

"The extraction request wasn't in the reports," though obviously implicit from the mission itself.

"No. You have to understand, you were days away on Eta Ceta, with all the risks of Cetagandan interception. A courier round trip would be too slow. The situation was very volatile, so we planned and made preparations for an extraction. Then we found out that the local ImpSec controller had already given her a, er questionable order in response."

Miles thought he knew where this was going now, but he waited for Allegre to explain.

"He ordered her to execute the clones and make her own escape. He had arranged for a merchant ship to be at Dyne station - it would have been ten days ago. Obviously she refused to carry out the order, and that was when he forwarded his report."

Miles curiosity got the better of him - he might have to rely on Allegre too, if this resulted in him going out there to clean up the mess, with some sort of diplomatic mission, "Obviously, because had she eliminated the clones we'd not have the current mess, or because the order was illegal?"

"Miles!" Gregor chided him.

"It's alright Sire. My Lord Auditor, I would not have given that order without first consulting the Emperor - but if it had been me out there, on the spot where Miss Chenko is, or that controller at the sector office, with no quick access to higher authority? She wasn't officially in his chain of command - which cuts both ways with her refusal too, and because she'd been out of contact for so long previously. Seeing the chances of extraction so unlikely within the anticipated timescale, other agents being burned, other clones being moved, the Emperor's security at risk? I think I would have made the same decision."

Well, at least he was being honest. What would Miles have done? If he'd been on the spot - got them out somehow. If he'd been the contact in the next system, Hegan Hub? No real chance of a proper extraction from inside the research facility, but if she could get them outside, then surely a pick up would have been possible? Moot point now, "So how did the mission get organised so fast? Seems like it would have taken longer than - what, two weeks?"

"Based on the previous reports we had expected the clones to be moved some time soon, and that seemed like the best time to grab them..."

"Risky General, to let them become more mobile."

"Yes, but the problems of moving sufficient men and fire power into the system without starting a war with them, during which Bharaputra and the clones might escape..."

"Wait - you said you didn't consult me because of this sudden change, but you've known of the plot for how long? Three months?"

Allegre glanced at Gregor, and the Emperor fielded the question, "Miles, the last time you and Mark were on Jacksons Whole you were both nearly killed - well, technically you were killed."

"That doesn't..."

The Emperor's upthrown hand halted Miles. Gregor continued, "You'd have gone there yourself, you know you would. Try to control the operation directly or indirectly, probably pulled something off but possibly got yourself killed again. We had Chenko working on it. I would have preferred a quiet resolution... Unlike some of your old Dendarii operations!

"We know that Bharaputra keeps tabs on the Dendarii, so who else could we trust? The clone transplant trade is already dying, albeit gradually, and I was trying to avoid a direct assault on the facility, which would risk loosing the clones one way or another. We couldn't leave an extraction to Fell alone - and leave the clones in his power. You'd never have trusted Chenko, because you don't know her, and she wouldn't have listened to your orders."

Miles tried to remain calm and give this all the attention it deserved, but decided it didn't really deserve serious contemplation, "I would not have gone in guns blazing if that's what you are suggesting?" Gregor twitched his eyebrow in doubt, "I'm a mature married man now, with a family to think of..." Gregor's wooden look might not have been because he was trying not to laugh, but... "Anyway, if I'd read her history first then maybe I'd have believed I could trust her. Either way, leaving one of your best advisors out of the loop doesn't seem to have improved the situation, does it? Sire."

Neither of them looked convinced, and he thought there was still something missing, "What? There's something else isn't there?"

Gregor took it again, "Bharaputra already knows who you are - had to have been watching in case you made a move towards Jackson's Whole, which would mean we knew about the plot - no other reason you'd ever go back there."

"So you decided I'd be better off not knowing anything about it, so I wouldn't go anywhere near it?"

"Yes, and I still think you going there is a bad idea Miles. You know Bharaputra made several assassination attempts on you before you retired from the Dendarii, and there was a connection to the poisoning of that necklace before your wedding?" Miles nodded, "Well, you may remember the explosion in the Caravanserai about eight years ago?"

"I thought that was the hard right militarists!"

"They weren't quick to deny it, but no, it was a contract team from Jacksons Whole. They detonated the device to avoid capture. Luckily it was not fully assembled. They might have surrendered and traded information, but they had families on Jacksons Whole. No evidence of who hired them of course, it took months to identify who they were from the remains: freelance assassins, credited with a number of deaths around the nexus. So their employer could have been anyone with a grudge against us - even a local Barryaran client, no way to tell."

"But you think it was Bharaputra?" Gregor nodded, "So getting back to the mission - you had some ships ready?"

"A small force was assembling to be attached to the Komarran trade fleet that was already scheduled for routing through Jacksons Whole..." Allegre confirmed.

"With Ivan in it?"

"Not until the handler reported that Chenko was out of our control. We thought Captain Vorpatril, known to be close to the Emperor was someone she'd trust."

"Ivan. Get her to kill the clones? or to bring them out for a pick up?"

Gregor interjected, "I would not ask Ivan to give such an order; by then we'd agreed an extraction was needed."

"What changed? Why didn't you think you could snatch them when they moved?"

Allegre continued, "Our other operatives disappearing. We realised Bharaputra knew we'd increased our surveillance. He was making his move and we couldn't count on agents still being in place to assist a snatch. We had the ships ready, so we added the Captain and his ImpSec team in case Bharaputra had gotten to anyone else. We already had the Durona treatment available and Captain Kimura en-route; we had wanted him to help try and find the clone facility we still think is in one of the neighbouring systems, a possible destination for the special clones too."

"OK, so you had the ships and the people and they made good time. Bharaputra realised they were there for him? That's why the raid dropped early?"

"Yes," said Allegre, "That's what Vortigan thought, but as you know we don't have much more than that."

"Seems obvious in hindsight, eh? Perhaps someone should have arranged for an immediate drop on arrival?

Allegre grimaced, "That was the plan, but our agent disappeared and we suspected a mole in Fell's security - so little point in giving them early warning, more warning."

"So you want me to do what at this point? Sit here and help you worry?"

Allegre frowned, but Gregor laughed, "In fact, I thought it was time to get you fully briefed, to get your advice if you have any, and to be ready for the next report - so we can react more rapidly."

"So what response have you already got planned?"

Captain Reynard was in his tiny day cabin aboard the patrol ship Rascal, checking other intelligence information when the message from _Kanzian_ arrived, having been sent just before the flagship left the system. Vortigan wished him luck and confirmed the trade fleet's planned route back to Komarr.

Reynard had visited Captain Vorpatril before the _Kanzian_ left. On the return shuttle he'd inspected Captain Kimura's armoured suit and other weapons. Some of the recent scars overlay older ones - obviously the Dendarii saw plenty of action, and from what the Commodore had said the Dendarii captain had acquitted himself very well.

He hadn't liked the look of Captain Vorpatril, lying there vague and confused, although the doctor assured him a full recovery was expected, eventually.

He was still pondering how his new wife would feel if he were to return in such a state when the com's buzzer sounded and he pressed the button to answer.

Doctor Durona was making her final examination of the Baron before deciding if the last stage of his treatment could be started. His skin tone was good, his eyes brighter and less watery and his breath was improving - he'd had noticeable halitosis the first time she'd examined him. His nerves were healthy and his brian scan looked good - though some permanent damage could not be reversed. He'd been lucky - even with this minimal brain damage, she'd expected more noticeable deterioration than he showed. His mental reaction time had improved compared to the first examination, though still less positive and decisive than when she'd known him years before, that was subjective but his own medical records supported it.

The post treatment tests showed there was no further deterioration of the brain, and the rest of his body was also responding well. After the next treatment he could probably expect a further twenty years of active life, before a rapid decline and death. Fell already knew this from their earlier chats, so she simply reassured him that they were ready to start the final course of treatment.

The new serum would begin bonding with the cells throughout his body and when the final catalyst was introduced it would react with the newly treated cells to reset their biological clock. With their structures now strengthened and renewed, future cell regenerations would be less prone to failure or mutation, and consequently the Baron should stay in his new, younger state for about twenty years.

The chief doctor administered the serum himself, rather clumsily. The Baron snapped at him and the man apologised before scuttling out, trailed by his two assistants.

The Baron adjusted his position in the bed, "My arm hurts," he complained, "Clumsy oaf! With what I pay him he should be more careful, or let one of those youngsters do it instead - perhaps I should have asked for you to do it Doctor!"

Rowan inspected the site of the injection, "there's no real damage Baron, perhaps he's still having trouble sleeping."

"Why? Is he worried about the treatment not working?"

"No, it's his family - his wife and children? He didn't say how many children."

"Emanuel? A wife and two children, a boy and a little girl. What's the matter, are they ill?"

Rowan was embarrassed - if the doctor hadn't told the Baron, or maybe the Baron hadn't been interested. Would this just get him more annoyed? Too late now, "He said they'd been injured in an accident - actually, he didn't specifically say all of them, he said his family, which I took to mean all of them."

"That's odd. I don't remember hearing anything about that," he called his private secretary on the com unit and quizzed the man about it, "How can you not know? Well, find out and inform me immediately, whatever the time, unless I am having treatment of course." He broke the connection. "I could ask him myself, but it might upset him even more, however I think I will ask for one of those assistants to administer the next treatment, if you have no objection?"

Rowan shook her head thoughtfully. Perhaps Doctor Emanuel didn't wanted his sorrow made public? Had not wanted to miss seeing the new treatment process, even if the substance itself was secret. She made her exit and went to the executive dining room with Kimura in tow, doing his duty as her bodyguard.

They found a table in a corner of the wood panelled room, away from other senior staff in a variety of dress, even a couple of the security officers in House Fell's green uniform.

"How are you getting on with the Fell guards?" She asked.

"They're OK, decent enough, if a little dull. Well, dull but paranoid - which isn't a bad combination for long term guard duty."

"I suppose you're right. Have you made friends, or at least formed enough of a professional relationship to ask about something for me?"

Kimura looked intrigued, "I have met with that captain and he seems competent enough. Something non-medical, a security issue you don't want to ask the Baron about directly?"

"Just so. It's a personal matter concerning his chief of medicine, Doctor Emanuel." Kimura nodded, "He told me his family had recently been in some sort of accident, but he doesn't seem to have mentioned it to the Baron."

"Huh, that does seem odd. You'd think someone else would have heard, and mentioned it though."

"The personnel department should have known - medical treatment isn't free on Jackson's Whole but they'd probably be on his staff scheme. He's obviously not requested time off..."

"That is odd. Unless there's something secret about it - and if there is then it would be, well it'd almost have to be bad: I think you're right. I'll ask straight away."

"Fell asked his assistant to check too, but maybe the security captain can get a quicker result."

"Yes, I heard he had some contacts down below on the planet," Kimura stood up, "Will you be alright here for a few minutes while I go and see him - I'd rather not use the com system here."

"Yes, of course. I'll stay here and finish my coffee. Take your time. If you get delayed I'll go back to my quarters directly, then later I have to examine the Baron again."

"Right. Should only take five or ten minutes though."

Kimura headed off and Rowan sipped her coffee and wondered what might be a legitimately good reason for keeping a family problem to oneself, apart from just privacy - maybe embarrassment? Some sort of financial implication?

Ivan woke up feeling clear headed for the first time in what felt like weeks. What was going on? Oh yeah, the raid. He closed his eyes again and listened, he could hear or feel the soft thrumming through the air and the bed frame. He inhaled and smelt the slight caustic tang of bleach or something similar - whatever it was they used in hospitals or sick bays to get things clean. Get rid of blood. He ran through his memory without moving, trying to get a handle on things before the medics bustled in and drove it all away again.

He could now remember their arrival in system, then the meeting with Baron Fell, though details were a bit hazy. He concentrated and got some more, then moved on past the hurried shuttle drop, missiles, a crashing ship. There was a scramble to get out of the bottom of the utility shaft, up to the creche, then a firefight. That's where things got vague again.

If he hadn't remembered more about meeting up with the clones and the flight up he'd have thought he'd been frozen in a cryo chamber - he had a strong feeling he had, but no memory - he hoped it was his memory getting mixed up with the reports of Miles death and freezing on that old raid. Still not fully recovered he guessed, himself not Miles, he thought he had that bit straight now. Why did that seem important? Oh, Kimura had visited a while back and he'd made some dopey comment about Miles being frozen hadn't he?

Havers, the orderly arrived and started fussing about the bed, checking his temperature, eyes, blood pressure and tidying the sheets. Ivan hung on to the memory of the clones, one of them in that co-pilot's seat. Some stuff about that intense little woman sorting out a booby trap, all concentration and weeping burns! God, he hated the thought of being burnt! At least he'd only been bashed on the head or something - no serious damage then.

Then Gregor came in, followed by another one, then Baron Luigi Bharaputra and Ivan felt his mind tilt over into a spin, and he almost blacked out - so overwhelming was the feeling of mental vertigo, but he pulled back that memory of the clone in the co-pilot's seat and it all began to slot together into a new reality.

"So they're out and safe? The clones and Ivan I mean - the marines are a separate issue for now," Miles reasoned, as they sat around a small conference table in the room behind the Emperor's dais of the Counts Chamber.

Gregor had just had a tough session explaining the raid to the the Council of Counts. He'd informed them of the now successful mission to rescue his clones. Then had to justify bringing them back alive, with all the possibilities of constitutional chaos that risked. By some careful manoeuvring Gregor had got his new bills through - the clones would be genetically marked, actually altered to be non-identical, and they and any progeny would be ineligible to any place in future successions. The new law defined a class of 'illegitimate clone', which denoted any clone made without the progenitors official and prior written and properly witnessed consent. A sort of pre-nuptial agreement that could explicitly include or exclude a clone from any or all inheritance, and could only be overridden by the progenitor or their legitimate heirs. So the two Gregor clones would get a modest pension, free education and a lifetime of protection and seclusion on Barrayar or, if officially approved, one of the other two planets in the empire. In short their rights would be strictly limited. Miles thought it a stopgap measure for the two clones, but once Gregor's children started having their own children - which might be a long time, if Gregor was any guide, probably at least twenty years before they'd be completely in the clear. So maybe by the time the clones reached an actual age of thirty, they might be allowed to travel. Or not.

"When will we have confirmation they're out of Jacksonian space?"

"Another day," said Allegre.

"And Ivan will recover? The Chenko woman too?"

"Yes. Probably well on the way to it by the time they arrive. The Lieutenant will take longer." Allegre looked sombre.

"No permanent damage?" Lady Alys asked again.

"None - as sure as they can be."

"Escobar for Crozier?" asked Miles.

"I think so," said Allegre, "With the level of burns I'd prefer he got the best chance, and you recommended the clinic on Escobar - why not the Durona's?"

"The Beauchene Life Centre's had more experience from their Dendarii contracts, and they actually trial some Durona inovations, so it's the best of both worlds."

"Good," said Gregor.

"And Bharaputra dead, finally." Miles could hardly believe it, but Vortigan said it was definite, with physical evidence too, "So, what about his clone?"

"They should..." Alys stopped herself from repeating the uncharacteristically vindictive suggestion, to put him out of a hatch half way home.

"Aunt Alys, the clone isn't..."

"Don't you dare patronise me Count Vorkosigan! I still think that you will rue the day you let that, that viper into our nest."

Miles controlled his reaction to the faintest ripple of his lips, nothing anyone could interpret with certainty. His aunt glared at him anyway, but he tried again, "Look at Mark, he was..."

"Yes, look at him. He may be as rich as, as Vordarian," she smirked evilly, "but he is no Vor."

"Oh, I don't know," Gregor said, "He might not be Old High Vor, but he's done very well - and I don't just mean the money. His foundation has won a lot of the people over, and the terraforming bugs have revolutionised the opening up of the South Continent, not to mention Sergyar and Komarr."

"Yes, well - I suppose good works and low prices will win over the proles, but he certainly took his time marrying Kareen - it was a scandal, even if they spent much of the time off planet they could have been more discrete!"

"Lady Alys," Gregor began soothingly, "he deserves an award, well maybe Kareen does anyway for luring away republican support to such an extent - I'd think you'd appreciate that more."

"You know I do, politically, but personally I wish she'd include more of my friend's daughters in her, her retinue."

"Retinue!" exclaimed Miles, "I know they're rich, but it's not quite that bad. I thought that she waited too long before she hired assistants - so what if they aren't all - isn't one of Rene Vorbretten's sisters helping her now?"

"One!"

"I don't think you should say anything about taking too long to seek help Lord Auditor Vorkosigan," quipped Gregor, "and how long was it before you took on your first assistant?"

"I had Roic!"

"An estimable man to be sure, but not a trained investigator, well not properly trained."

"He does extremely well! Don't know how I'd manage without him - good at investigating crime and a good nose for other things too..."

"Not for accounting, fraud or politics," Gregor pointed out.

"... I'm working on that! I have Tsipis' nephew, Peter, and Colonel Gibbs has all but agreed to join me too, next year when his first twenty is up..."

"I told you he could be seconded," Gregor reminded him.

"And he said it would affect his promotion prospects if his superiors thought he might be in and out all the time."

Gregor sighed, "Enough. I've said I'll cover that. Tell him to call me - no, better invite him here," Miles opened his mouth, "No? Well, chivy him along then. Perhaps I should institute that shared pool of trained men you suggested, you still want it?"

"Yes, and so does Professor Vorthys, though some of the others need more persuading."

"Draw up a plan. Now back to the case in hand: Miles' idea for this Bharaputra clone..."

"Set him loose with those bugs!" exclaimed Alys.

"If he's half as good as his progenitor he'll do well," said Miles, "and it keeps him on planet, but away from any significant politics."

"The southern continent isn't as far away as it used to be," Alys noted.

"A good balance - far enough to be safe for us, near enough to respond quickly if he starts acting out," Allegre stated coldly.

"I agree," said Miles, "but I don't expect any trouble from him - in fact I think we could probably put all three clones out to pasture down there, all the eggs in one basket, one lot of guards, and they'd probably like that too."

"Yes, but with Enrique as a mentor? And Martya!"

"Could be good for them," Miles suggested, "family environment, strong woman, brilliant but er, socially inept father figure?"

"Might even be helpful Alys," Gregor suggested, "curb any ambitions?"

"I will start drawing up a shortlist of guards to help with that Sire, if you are sure that's for the best?" Allegre asked.

"It'll do as a starting point," Gregor decided, "They'll be going to ImpMil first though, my own clones, for the treatment, before anyone has chance to scupper the idea. Before the civil rights loonies get hold of it - fait accompli."

"I couldn't agree more Sire," Allegre agreed, "except I suggest that we keep their actual arrival confidential until they've already been whisked away to the South Continent, nice and secluded on the MVK facility. We can let them have a few days out once the dust settles, if that's what they want. Just so long as the," he suppressed an expletive, in Lady Alys' presence, "press don't get hold of it, at least until after the bill's been fully ratified."

"Amen," said Miles, echoed by both Gregor and Lady Alys.

Next day Ivan was allowed his first chance of a walk, to the lav and back. He was breathing heavily before he got back to the bed again, "What've you been doing to me Havers?" he asked the orderly, "I shouldn't be so wobbly and out of breath after a ten metre hobble!"

"Not unusual sir, after a few days lying in bed. You'll pick up quick now you're up and about sir."

Ivan wasn't so sure as Havers tucked the bed clothes in again, he was glad of the warm cocoon and soft pillows, "How long was I out of it - it's hard to work out, well being unconscious..."

"You were brought in five days ago sir, then sedated for three days while the bone stim got to work and the nerves regenerated. You started coming around maybe thirty hours ago - still a bit confused at first."

"I'll say," muttered Ivan, "So how is Miss Chenko doing?"

"The young lady is progressing well sir - they still have her sedated in the tank, but she should be coming out in a day or two. They might still keep her sedated for another day though 'cos of the itching."

"Itching?" Ivan asked, not sure he'd heard that correctly.

"Oh yes sir, they have the itches right bad after a few days in the tank sir - specially those sort of burns. We'd have to strap her arms and legs up otherwise, and that would leave permanent marks. So we sedate 'em until the skin sets. Well, not sets really, but sort of dries out enough that it doesn't just pull off when you scratch it."

"Ugh," that was a picture Ivan didn't need in his head! He tried to think what else he could ask to replace the image, "Those clones - are they doing OK?" Whoops, that wasn't much better, "And what about the Lieutenant, Crozier, in cryo - what's his, his outlook?"

"The clones are alright sir, though it's a bit strange to see the twins, looking so much like Emperor Gregor a few years ago - I got inspected once, on parade for his official birthday. I heard that you know him quite well sir? Well, you are high Vor I know - is he really, I mean what's he really like then?"

Ah, that old questions, and how to answer it, "Calm, serious - focused on the job most of the time. A lot happier now, with Liasa," he thought it best to leave it there and not mention the relief that she'd finally produced heirs. He and Miles could relax now. "Good at his job, which is the important thing - that those republicans don't seem to realise: they want some bloody elected bureaucrat instead, God help us!"

"Yes sir, quite agree, don't want all that stuff - it's what sets us apart from all those galactics after all."

Ivan forbore to mention the Cetagandans, "So the Lieutenant is safely frozen?"

"Lieutenant Crozier, yes sir - that nice doctor Durona was very helpful, I was assisting and I believe she showed them a thing or two. New procedures we hadn't heard of before, special for burns cases."

Ivan pictured Rowan Durona, yes that was better!

Havers continued, "Just a bit more glycerol in the skin coating mix and not as thick, to help with the removal process. Pumping the initial cryo mix right through to remove more of the toxins from the burn reactions. Then changing the mix and increasing the pressure, with some additives to go in and stabilise the soft tissue. Then reducing pressure again to get more toxins out again. Very good, a superior doctor she is sir. Glad they brought her along. Sorry we had to leave her back there in that, that Whole sir," he seemed pleased with his play on words.

Ivan smiled in acknowledgement, "She thinks he's recoverable though?"

"She was quite hopeful sir, and said she'd help with the revival and treatment, if they send him on to Escobar that is. I hope they do sir. Not that ImpMil isn't very good, and some of the private clinics in Vorbarr Sultana and," he hesitated, trying to remember where Ivan might have family interests, but gave up, "elsewhere. But it does still seem better to be sure, with burns like that. Well, with the whole revival process really," he shivered, "It still seems unnatural somehow, like cheating death sir. Don't get me wrong - I'm all for fighting to the last to save anyone, but it's strange," then he seemed to decide he was saying too much, "Well sir, I'll leave you for a while now, to rest. The physiotherapist will be along in an hour, then it'll be lunch time - you can try some solids today, you did well with the groats, so some chunky soup and maybe some nice raspberry roly-poly to follow."

Ivan watched the orderly walk away and wondered how it was that a middle aged orderly could make him feel like he was ten years old again.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Rowan had asked one of the technical assistants to go through their tests again, taking a very small sample from the dose they were preparing for the upcoming treatment, the first of the final two stage process, the new age regression process. She watched him closely, making him nervous but she could see nothing wrong. Still, she was uneasy as Emanuel's assistant injected the liquid into the Baron's left arm, giving the bruised right another day to recover from Emanuel's clumsiness.

Emanuel seemed more relaxed and Rowan started to believe that it had just been nervous depression or something similar that had affected him the previous day. The medical staff left, chatting quietly, one of them could just be heard as the door shut, speculating about what part of the serum was so secret. They had analysed it in detail, but the unusual elements were genetic and not chemical, so without doing a full genetic analysis - and that would take days just to map out, they wouldn't find anything. Even then, the changes were within the normal human model, a full comparison with a base sample of the Baron's unchanged cells would show only minor differences, and maybe not even those. The change was a combination of synergistic elements each of which encouraged more accurate regeneration, but some of them were not a change in the gene sequence, but causing minor changes in the individual cells' chemical balance. Taken separately they were meaningless - and there were some other changes in there to, just to disguise the active changes. That had been Crys' idea and Rowan had been surprised at how much fun it had been to try and find additions that were the most misleading while being completely harmless to the patient or the process. It had even led to two serendipitous discoveries of additional enhancements!

"Is it uncomfortable Baron?" she enquired when he shifted position in the bed.

"Maybe a little," he admitted grudgingly, "It feels itchy, which I don't think I've ever felt before - not down inside my guts anyway! Is that normal?"

Rowan saw the hidden worry and reassured him immediately; tension could inhibit the process, "Yes. It's been reported by almost every test subject from the start. We have tried altering the serum, but can't get rid of it without reducing the benefits. We believe it's a healthy, if irritating side effect - but it will pass in an hour or two, as the serum has it's first generation effect on your cells. It's a sort of growing pain if you like."

"I don't like - what do you mean 'growing pain'? Am I going to start growing, at my age?"

"Not physically, no. But your cells are doing a sort of house cleaning - only healthy cells can regenerate once the serum is absorbed fully, so there are a lot of dying cells being flushed out. It's a small proportion as a whole, though some areas of the body experience more of it, the increase in cell transport or removal is sufficiently high to cause those sort of sensations. I'm sorry, I should have warned you - but it will pass soon. You should relax as much as you can - do you want me to leave you alone to try and sleep?"

"Actually I'd rather you stayed and chatted - it would help distract me from wanting to scratch, if I could work out how to - so please stay Doctor."

"Of course. I'd suggest talking about things that don't make you tense or anxious, so probably not work or the recent raid and it's aftermath. Do you like music Baron? I don't think Lilly ever mentioned that?"

"Yes in fact. I have an interest in the old Earth composers from the pre-war era. There are some European ones - that was one of the areas of early technological development, around the time of steam engines or before. One of the main centres of civilisation seemed to be a small country called Germany, and it's neighbour Austria - also one of their rivals nearby, a larger place call Russia. Your allies the Barryarans, our allies that is, they remind me of these old Earther states, like some old drama playing out - all dances and marching! The music can be very beautiful, great swooping, swirling orchestral waves of sound. The dance music I mentioned, like their waltzes for instance - it can only be danced to properly if you wear fancy, showy clothes as I've seen in some of the vids from Barrayar. Some their music is reminiscent of the great German and Austrian composers, but more staccato and less depth."

This was a side of the Baron that Rowan hadn't imagined, "Any others, I don't think I've heard any of those old composers, what are their names?"

"Mozart, some of the Romantics - Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Strauss for his waltzes particularly. Have you heard of any of those Doctor?"

"Tchaikovsky I think - didn't he do some musicals?" she suggested tentatively.

He smiled, with a hint of indulgence, "Ballet my dear, musical scores for great ballets. Have you heard of Swan Lake? It's still performed now and then, particularly on Earth in that region he came from. I have recordings of several versions."

"No. Sorry, but I'm not, it's not one of my passions - though it sounds like it's one of yours?"

"Maybe, maybe not - passions can be a weakness and a distraction I find, which can be a danger, an anti-survival trait. Look at Ryoval."

She shivered, "Yes, though I do try to forget. Thanks for reminding me!"

"I apologise Doctor, I just meant that he was too involved in his perverse obsessions to see the danger they brought down on him. Same with Bharaputra - but I was to avoid such stressful subjects. Thankfully they are now in the past. I can hope for a more relaxing future here. Until the next madman arises kraken-like from the depths. It is after all survival of the fittest here, not survival of the best or most worthy, or most relaxing eh?"

"Perhaps a new subject then Baron - what was that Kraken you mentioned, one of the fish they hunt or farm on planet? Or is it another one of those old Earth references you seem to like?"

"Yes, you caught me! It's a fabled creature, from their old mythology rather than a real creature. A sort of sea god. Something that would rise from the depths of their oceans and cause havoc and destruction before returning home to the dark depths to brood for another hundred years - until someone else did something to anger the gods."

Kimura was feeling bored, spending most of his time waiting outside the Baron's recovery room, or in his own quarters next to the doctor's. He'd done body guard duty a few times in his early career with the Dendarii, but it had never been his favourite. So he was glad when Fell's guard captain, Navarr called him on the com unit. He was invited to join the captain in his office for a meeting. It was probably about that other doctor, Emanuel. He stuck his head round the door and asked the doctor how long she'd be and that he needed to check something with Navarr - and she agreed to stay in the guarded room until he returned.

Before Kimura was even seated Captain Navarr confirmed it, "His family is supposed to be staying with his wife's sister in Jackson city, and he's had calls from that number on a regular basis since they went downside a few weeks ago. The odd thing is that my man down there hasn't found anyone who's seen them since they first arrived. I've asked him to check further, but what does that suggest to you Captain Kimura?"

"Kidnap? Hostage situation? Is that what you're getting at?"

"Yes. So at a time when your fleet was on route here, but before we - well before the Baron told me about it, someone gets to doctor Emanuel's family? Why? And how did they know that you were coming? Is there anything you'd like to tell me Captain? Any possibility of a leak in your security - we've apprehended several Barrayaran agents here over the last few years, but they've mostly been focused on Bharaputra - not that they were successful apart from that one woman we now all know about now."

Kimura noticed the security captain's irritation, probably at not being kept in the loop on Natasha's existence - since it seemed from what had been said by the Baron that he at least had known of her before, possibly had dealings with her. Typical Jacksons Whole - right hand didn't know what the left was doing, very paranoid, and inefficient. "They'd hardly tell me Captain - the Dendarii haven't had any interest in coming back here since the last, very expensive raid on Bharaputra's main complex. The only reason I'm here is as a military advisor, for the actual raid on the research labs - they didn't ask me, and I couldn't have helped in gathering intelligence, at such short notice."

"No old contacts here? No agents sent ahead by your admiral?" Kimura shook his head, "You surprise me - I had understood your fleet had a pretty good intelligence department."

"Yeah, but the Barrayarans weren't paying us to do that, and there wouldn't have been time anyway," he shrugged in vague regret.

"So what exactly is your current role - purely as a body guard, or are you attempting to gather intelligence before you leave here again?"

"No one has asked me to do any covert intelligence gathering if that's what you mean. I keep my eyes and ears open, purely out of habit and to catch anything that might affect on the Doctor's safety, but that's all. Like I say, the Barrayarans aren't paying for anything else, and as long as I get out alive, with the Doctor, then I get payed my bonus - no bonus for anything else, honest!" He held his hands up in mock surrender and smiled winningly.

The security captain frowned, and leaned forward, "Then I'll have to wait for my man's report - which should be through within the hour. And how are you finding it on Fell station - quiet? Boring?" He raised his eyebrows in query.

"Oh, I don't mind boredom, as long as I can manage to keep alert that is - which I do here. I might not have much to do, but there are interesting people around - the Baron of course, and yourself," the captain bowed ironically in his seat, "the other staff, and Doctors Durona and Emanuel."

"Why do you find Doctor Durona so interesting?"

"Well, she's my principal, I need to find out about her so that I can protect her better, and she has an interesting history, as I'm sure you know?" Navarr inclined his head in acknowledgement, "Apart from her coming back here, the new treatment and all it heralds in social effects, her group is doing other interesting work too."

"Like what?"

"Well, Doctor Durona, Rowan Durona I mean, has done some good work in improving cryo revival success of course, and continues to make improvements - which is always of interest to a mercenary company," Navarr nodded again, "Others in the group have mostly been working on the age regression project, but there have been a steady stream of developments and patents coming out of their clinic - again of interest to the Dendarii are some treatments for muscle, bone and organ damage - not whole organ growth, but in-situ regeneration techniques with better results than their competitors. Developments in halting and reversing bone degeneration and degenerative brain diseases, other organs too. They are quietly making a very big name for themselves - and it's spreading outside the confines of Escobar space too. It's no wonder the Barrayarans roped them into this operation, on the Baron's side that is."

"Yes, but do you trust them, the Durona's and this Doctor Rowan in particular?"

"As far as a mercenary ever trusts his employer, or other consultants on an operation. So far I can see no reason to doubt her. I can understand that it's your job to remain suspicious though."

"Yes, my job. Did you know that I am new to this post?"

"No. Was it not a normal promotion?"

"No, in fact I stepped into a dead man's shoes. My predecessor was Captain Channing. He had the misfortune to only warn the Baron in general terms to be careful of the Cavilo woman when she came to visit, under an assumed name - which Channing didn't realise. So she left the Baron infected with that nasty brain rot your doctor is trying to cure. Channing was given the choice of disintegration or suicide. He chose suicide by poison. It may have been painless, but I'd prefer not to have to make such a choice myself. So if you hear anything, even if it doesn't impinge on your doctor's immediate safety, I'd recommend that you inform me immediately. The Baron takes a very dim view of people who keep their suspicions to themselves."

"And have you told him your suspicions about Emanuel yet?"

"I will do so shortly, as soon as I have some confirmation one way or the other from Frickert down below."

"Isn't that a gamble - I mean what if Doctor Emanuel is under pressure to do something to the Baron, or to Doctor Durona..." Kimura felt a sudden need to leave and be a lot closer to Rowan, and he got up ready to act on his feeling.

"One moment more Captain Kimura, I heard that Doctor Durona had the technicians re-check one of the serums she brought - does that mean that she also suspects Doctor Emanuel of something, and if so, of what does she suspect him?"

"She didn't say - she just thought it odd that no one else seemed to have heard anything about his family's accident and thought it wise to check the serum hadn't been tampered with, and watch the checks as they were performed."

"And they came out all right? She was happy with the serum and the way the tests were run?"

"As far as I could tell she was entirely satisfied, which seemed to put her mind at rest."

"But she still asked you to make enquiries?"

"She's a careful scientist, she doesn't like loose ends."

"Very well Captain, go - but remember to tell me if anything else comes up?"

"Yes. Bye Captain!" Kimura left and broke into a jog, causing a few heads to turn as he passed people in the main corridor on the way to the medical section.

Doctor Emanuel handed the prepared syringe to his assistant to administer and stepped back out of the way. His movement caused a ripple in the group around the bed and Rowan looked up, straight into Emanuel's frightened eyes. He smiled sickly and took another backwards step, then turned and made for the door.

For a second Rowan hesitated, but before Kruger, the assistant could bring the needle against the Baron's arm she spoke, "Halt! Don't make that injection!"

"What?" exclaimed a puzzled Kruger.

The other medics looked at her, confused, but with a hint of panic. She guessed that this was just the fear of disappointing the Baron in any way.

Rowan held out her hand towards Kruger, "Give me that syringe. Now."

The Baron bellowed, "Atkins!" calling for his personal servant and bodyguard, a hard little man with deadly unarmed combat skills. The man slid through the door and pulled two of the medics away sharply, throwing them against the glass walls - they bounced back onto the floor - naturally the glass walls were reinforced. One of the blinds was pulled from the ceiling as a medical assistant slid down to the floor.

Atkins saw the remaining tableau, the focus of Rowan's attention, and grabbed the syringe from Kruger, breaking one of the man's fingers in the process and, conscious of the possible value of it's contents, Atkins held the syringe high above his head and stepped back. A heavy duty stunner had appeared in his other hand. After flicking it's aim from Rowan to Kruger and back, he casually stunned the two medics before they could rise to their feet. The weapon's muzzle was back on Kruger before he could blink a second time. A klaxon sounded in the corridor outside.

"What's this all about?" Kruger repeated, wincing as he nervously held his right hand in his left, trying to straighten the broken finger.

"Yes Doctor Durona, please explain your outburst!" The Barons voice was low, but charged with menace.

Atkins shifted his position so he had a better line of fire, and a better view of Rowan's face. He jerked the muzzle left, indicating that she should step back. Kruger also stepped back and again Atkins weapon twitched and the man crumpled.

The Baron swore quietly and Atkins blanched, evidently his stunner beam's periphery had touched his employer. The Baron asked again, "Please explain yourself Doctor," then before she could speak he noticed something, "Ah, where's Emanuel?"

Atkins' eyes flickered, but returned to Rowan. His hand stayed rock steady, his gaze was inhumanly icy.

Rowan swallowed and cleared her throat, "Yes, Doctor Emanuel looked nervous when he handed the syringe over, and then he moved back. When I looked at him he turned tail and left the room. I told you about what he said, his family? But the first stage was fine, definitely, I watched them check it and I watched it all the way until you were injected. But this time, I thought it was all right - I did ask Kruger to have it checked again, but Emanuel - he just looked odd. It might just be his family, or maybe because of fumbling that injection before..."

"Except that my personnel manager hasn't heard anything about his family. Navarr was checking, and if he's missed something... What?"

The door burst open and Kimura stopped suddenly in the opening, after checking Rowan appeared to be unharmed he eyed Atkins' weapon warily, standing unmoving in the doorway as Navarr jogged up behind, "Baron! You're all right?"

"Yes Captain, for the moment we both are, though you might have some explaining to do. But before we have that discussion you will have Doctor Emanuel detained, searched for weapons then confined to his quarters and watched by two of your best men. See that he contacts no one and does himself no harm." The Baron dropped his voice, "Understood?"

The captain gulped, "Yes sir! Immediately!" He turned away and whispered instructions into his wrist com for Emanuel's urgent detainment and reinforcement of the medical centre guards. Before he was finished two more guards arrived to investigate the weapons discharge, and he set them either side of the door, nerve disrupters at the ready. Two additional guards clumped up towards them and slowed, hands out placatingly as they were covered by the door guards. Navarr shouted instructions for them to close off each end of the corridor, then used his wrist com to order the station onto a general lockdown with shuttles patrolling to impose a perimeter blocking any approaching vessels, and the klaxon shut off.

In the renewed silence Atkins' low voice croaked, "Sir? You alright?"

"It seems so Atkins. A little numb, but unless the good Doctor has anything to say about that we'll let it pass, for now. Be more careful next time - if you can. So far we've all survived intact, let's keep it that way until we find out what's going on. Captain Kimura, either you have remarkably fast reactions or you know something. Out with it!"

Kimura had been about to say, or maybe shout something as he came through the door, but the sight of Atkins and all the unconscious medics had distracted him, "Oh. Well, we - me and Navarr," he jerked his head back at the security captain, who was still speaking into and listening to responses from his com unit, "We'd started checking on Emanuel and it seemed like he was being - possibly he was being blackmailed, or pressured through his family, maybe to do something against you Baron," nodding to Fell, then to Rowan, "or you Doctor. So I thought I should get here quickly, then the alarm went off and - here I am."

"Navarr!" The Baron bellowed, bringing the Captain in almost instantly.

"Yes sir?" The captain quivered, gently shoving Kimura to one side.

"Do you have anything to report about Doctor Emanuel - have you found him yet?"

"Should have a report any second sir, and - hang on a moment," he looked away and muttered something into the wrist com again, listened to his ear plug and turned back, his face white, "The doctor is dead sir. Fried his brains with an illicit disruptor, I'll check where he got it from," he gulped in evident fear, "I'm expecting a report from Frickert about his family any minute sir," he swallowed again, "My apologies, I should have reported earlier, but I thought..."

All eyes had slid to Atkins, who had stuffed the syringe unceremoniously in his pocket and drawn a nerve disruptor, which was now aimed at Navarr. The other hand still held the stunner which was back on Rowan, Kimura wasn't sure if he should move or not - if Atkins fired now he'd get a serious hit himself, maybe not fatal, but he'd need some medical treatment to recover from it. If he was lucky.

The Baron was aware of their positions, "At ease Atkins, I think we can take the view, for the moment, that Emanuel was the sole agent here. Navarr, you will keep us on lockdown until you confirm that," he glanced over the side of his bed, "Get the medics out of here and give them some Synergine, but keep them under guard until they're cleared too. Captain Kimura, do you have a stunner yourself?"

"No sir, Captain Navarr made it very clear your own security were the only people allowed any weapons on station. As seemed proper," he added in Navarr's support.

"Yes, well I believe we should relax that for the duration of this crisis. Navarr?"

The Captain came to attention again, "Sir!?"

"Give Captain Kimura a heavy stunner, and allow him reasonable access to this area and their quarters, and between." he turned to Atkins, "You will stay in here with me until this is cleared up."

"Yes sir." Atkins croaked, looking a question at the Baron.

"Stand down for the moment. Navarr will investigate, although - Navarr, send for Garret."

Navarr looked a little sick at this, but firmed his voice, "Yes sir, immediately," and went outside the door to make more calls on his wrist com.

The Baron spoke again, "Atkins, give that syringe to the Doctor." Atkins pulled out the syringe, careful of the bent needle. The Baron continued, "Doctor Durona, please do your tests and inform me of the result, then perhaps I can get this over with and start managing my interests properly again," and muttered, "God knows they need me."

Atkins looked for a moment at the syringe, before handing it across to Rowan as she passed the end of the bed and made for the door. Atkins moved over by the wall again, standing in a relaxed but attentive pose.

As Kimura followed Rowan out of the room one of the door guards handed him a heavy stunner, along with the belt and holster. He nodded thanks and followed Rowan towards the laboratory.

Behind them they heard Navarr inform the Baron that Emanuel's family had been found. They were all dead - some sort of flyer crash out in the desert, south of Jackson city.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

As they entered Pol system, Vortigan was visiting again. Ivan didn't find these visits very conducive to his recovery, though he did appreciate the Commodore's supposedly caring intentions.

"...and the Emperor sends his wishes for a speedy recovery. It seems that both he and General Allegre are satisfied with the results of the operation, though naturally they're concerned by the casualty list. Your esteemed cousin did have something to say about the costs of a precipitate drop mission, which I found encouraging on the whole, and quite enlightening. I wasn't aware of his previous career, though I would have found that information useful - would you care to comment Captain? I understand that you had some knowledge of his previous high office, as admiral of the Dendarii?"

"It was secret sir. Top secret. Besides, he left them years ago, after he got killed on that mission."

"Yes. So I now understand - the clues were there I suppose, but I have to say that I resent being sent into combat with important information withheld from me. Particularly by officers under my command, though you might dispute that relationship - do you Captain?" His voice dropped almost to a whisper, "Dispute your position in my chain of command?"

Ivan stared at the wall opposite and stated woodenly, "I was given no instruction to divulge that previously secret information sir, and the standard operating procedure is always to assume it's to be kept secret unless explicitly told otherwise, in this case by the Emperor himself." Ivan tried to look sideways at the Commodore without moving his eyes.

"Stop evading Captain! If Vorkosigan's Dendarii persona was so secret, then what's this whole operation been about? Explain that to me if you can. Can you?"

"I... agree, sir."

"Really? But you didn't think I should be told of it?"

"I was explicitly told to keep quiet about the clones sir, and why they might be part of that plan, whatever the aim of it all was. That was not known sir, but they would have put something in the orders if I was supposed to discuss Admiral Naismith's identity with you sir," and quietly, "I hate intelligence."

"Yes, you do seem to avoid it Captain! Come on man, we were all supposed to be on the same side, yet we were pulling in different directions!"

"Yes sir. I can see how things didn't work out so well," and quickly to forestall the Commodore's angry reaction, "I don't mean the Marines sir! I mean that Bharaputra got the jump on us, and we had to rush the drop, and the bomb on the ship, then once when we caught up with the clones... But what I meant was that you knowing about Miles and all that history - well you knew everything except his real identity - you knew the Dendarii were a Barrayaran asset sir. I even thought you might have been told, or worked out who he was, I just didn't think I should confirm it explicitly, if you knew and weren't saying so sir!"

"And if I didn't know Captain? Did Baron Fell knew of this?"

"I... It turned out that he did sir, yes. The Emperor gave me that authorisation to negotiate and to take command if necessary, in the case of any action with direct effect on the extraction of those clones sir, and during that negotiation the Baron revealed that he already knew about Count Vorkosigan."

"So, basically I'm the only one who didn't know? What was my position in all this, sacrificial goat?"

"No sir. You were the commander of the orbital force and responsible for the safety of the Komarran fleet and our escape once we got back up to orbit."

"I feel so valuable. Thirty years of service, impeccable service I always thought, and all I am is a nursemaid for a bunch of merchant ships and an escape route for the heroic high Vor lordling? I feel honoured!"

"It's really not like that sir," said Ivan weakly - he hadn't seen it quite like that before anyway.

"Is it not? Is it not indeed? Well, maybe I should ask the Emperor for a clarification. Is he amenable to such things in you personal experience Captain? Or should I just take my pay check and wait for retirement?" Vortigan rose and glared down at Ivan, "Because my career does not seem so valuable, so honourable any more and nor do the deaths of forty three men under my command - some of whom might have been spared if you or the Emperor had seen fit to trust my judgement over yours! I will leave you to your thoughts Captain, and much may they comfort you - mine do not!" The Commodore turned and stalked out stiffly.

Ivan huffed his held breath out and sank back into his pillow. "Shit!" he squeaked, "Shit, shit, shitshitshit."

Havers entered, probably summoned by the Commodore's outburst or his fading footsteps, "Are you all right Captain Vorpatril? You look a bit pale?"

"No, yes, I don't know - I'm fine. Leave me alone Havers, I'm just a bit tired that's all."

Vortigan regretted his outburst before he reached his cabin, where he sat for a few minutes considering the interplay with Captain Vorpatril. The Captain still seemed ill, so it was probably better that he hadn't got around to mentioning the psychological profiling he'd ordered the doctors to carry out on the clones and Miss Chenko - on instructions from back home. They needed to pick up any hidden programming that might have been planted, well before they reached Barrayar and the Emperor.

"So they're safely through Hagans Hub?" Miles waved Ekaterin over to the secured console in the library at Vokosigan house. They'd been discussing which high school to send the twins to in a couple more years.

"Yes," Confirmed General Allegre, "They're closing on the jump station out of Pol," he checked his wrist com display, "Should be making the jump around now and there's no pursuit, so it looks like a clean escape - all three clones, Captain Vorpatril and Chenko. A clean sweep." He reconsidered, "Expensive, but worth it I think you will agree Count?"

"You're people did good work General, but you know that yourself. We've avoided disaster again. Let's hope we've not left any more enemies behind this time. Is Baron Fell's treatment proceeding on schedule?"

"Yes, he should have had the last treatment by now, given the delays in communications we'll probably hear something on that point soon. Captain Kimura is guarding Doctor Durona, and they should be leaving soon on the patrol ship Rascal. The plan is for them to come back here for a proper debrief before continuing to Escobar.

"You knew Kimura from your time as Admiral Naismith... do you wish to remain in the background when he's debriefed, or would you care to sit in, my Lord Auditor?"

Miles glanced at Ekaterin and smiled - she got most of the references these days and he could explain any she'd missed - he could enjoy it now that the worst was clearly over, "It'd be good to see him again, I admit. Good man Kimura. Yes, I think I'd like to be there and hear the first hand report of the raid, put me on the list."

"I thought that you might my Lord, and it seems that he is already onto your secret identity."

"Really?"

"Yes, Captain Vorpatril included that in his coded report, sent the day before the raid commenced. It confirms that your identity is more widely known than we had hoped, particularly amongst some Dendarii officers. So far it's not public knowledge here though, thank God."

Miles ignored the fact that they'd omitted that detail from the reports shown to him in the earlier briefing, "Quite. Well, we can quiz Kimura on it when he gets here. General, I'm still curious about your agent, the Chenko woman?"

"Yes my Lord, what is it that you would like to know?"

"You explained at the first meeting that she'd been out of contact, following Haroche's instructions?" Allegre nodded, "But that doesn't explain how she kept at it over ten years! Surely she'd made some reports - if she was so amazing, how could you not have heard of her?"

"As I said, Haroche gave her the instruction to track down Cavilo, and if necessary assassinate her."

"I don't recall that being made clear to me..."

"I'm sorry my Lord, that was not intentional."

Maybe not, thought Miles, but it seemed significant and perhaps... Well perhaps Allegre had been dreading the admission of the instruction to kill Gregor's clones that came shortly after. He nodded acceptance.

"Haroche excised her from the central systems, and had all her own reports diverted into a specially isolated server. A failed delivery report was flagged during a recent server upgrade and the new head of department forwarded that, which came to my attention and eventually the whole tangled history came to light.

Allegre sipped his drink and continued, "That's when we realised her expenses were being dealt with automatically, most usually as I think I mentioned she was paid as a confidential informant - a process that has very little auditing in any detail, necessarily of course."

Miles interrupted, "But surely she'd have asked for instructions - particularly after Haroche was arrested."

"I believe that she was on a personal quest and chose to ignore any duty to request further orders. She never seemed to take them well from anyone but Simon in any case."

Ekaterina smiled at the thought and that set Miles off, "She became her own boss? At our expense."

"That is what we believe my Lord."

"Even so... you said she got results, so how did you not hear about her?"

"On a couple of occasions she explicitely told her sector contacts to take the credit, to protect her anonymity as a deep cover agent. Their superiors went along with that and so the details were quite successfully hidden. The local man would get a reward of course - a citation or a promotion."

"How many operations are we talking about here?"

"We haven't confirmed all the minor ones yet, but there were four major ones that you may have heard of..."

Allegre caused the screen image to split, with a list of headings on the right while his tired face looked out from a reduced image to the left.

"The first was the Tau Ceti incident - you remember they never did discover who'd released those hostages at the university?"

Miles remembered and mouthed a promise to explain it to his wife.

"Shortly afterwards came the first report about Cavilo passing through Jacksons Whole, a few follow up reports of Cavlio's progress, along with some information about an earlier plot of Bharaputra's against the Dendarii after you'd left, all routinely filed reports, and now we've connected them they show her meandering voyage through the nexus. Chenko lost track of Cavilo after that.

"There was another hostage rescue on Lairouba, breaking up that unsavoury religious revolution against the Baba's family?" Miles nodded, "Then a lot of smaller things along the way before she foiled the Kshatryan coup seven years ago.

"Then nothing very big until Captain Kershaw of Randals Rangers contacted us to offer up that fleet Ivan took care of a couple of months ago. It seems he'd been recruited by Chenko a three years before but there were delays getting it set up through the local sector hierarchy, and I was already checking into his recruitment when it was tied into the Bharaputra situation.

"Kershaw is a very rich man, and slippery - he had a face change then eluded our observers passing through Pol space last month. I suspect he'll be changing identities if not faces for years to come to avoid retribution from the surviving Rangers."

Miles selected the file from the screen and expanded the details, which he estimated to cover another dozen smaller incidents around the nexus, and several thousand pages of text and supporting attachments.

"Is everything in here - the raw data from the reports?"

"Yes my Lord. The files are complete, though not all substantiated as yet. They do make very interesting reading. Although she didn't have a fleet of mercenaries to do her bidding, her results have been remarkable. Previously Simon and her own missions kept her busy, so she rarely returned home, then she became obsessed with chasing Cavilo..."

"Obsessed?"

"I think it's a result of her childhood my Lord, which you might find interesting - or disturbing..."

Miles opening his hand inviting further detail.

"She came across your files early on and seemed to find your youthful exploits particularly interesting. Simon said she'd had a friend from at the orphanage that connected to your family and he said that the Count, your father understood and had agreed with his confidence in the girl. Apparently her friend had been one of the orphans from that batch of replicators the Escobarans sent us after the war. Miss Chenko seemed to think of Elena Bothari as sort of step sister to her friend. She thought the other orphans should have been adopted too, whether by Bothari's brother armsmen or elsewhere in the district isn't clear, but that's what Simon remembers as the gist of her fantasy at the time."

"How did she find out about those replicators General?"

"Well, she's something of a computer hacking prodigy, so she'd already found all that out before Simon had caught her and recruited her as an agent."

"Are there any other reports from his time that I should be examining?"

"Nothing relevant my Lord, but I'll send them over."

"You were going to explain why it was she took the Cavilo assignment so much to heart?"

"The Hegan Hub report my Lord: Haroche sent it along with his initial instructions. I reread it again today and it must have been the time when Cavilo had the Emperor in her power. Putting it together with Galen's plot to replace you, Haroche reasoned that Cavilo might have taken similar genetic samples from the Emperor, and after your raid on Bharaputra's, where Mark was created... Obviously Cavilo knew who the Emperor was, and who you were - both your identities, and that was why she went to Bharaputra, he might have already found out, or she told him and he hatched this plot against us."

"Yes General, I thought there might be consequences at the time - letting her go, but we both gave her our word. We needed her to bring the Rangers ships into the coalition, then she'd be allowed to go on her way. Far away. She was never to bother Barrayar again, though she didn't seem to accept that part with any good grace. A palpable mistake in hind sight. I suppose she must have had the Emperor's genetic samples hidden somewhere - I doubt anyone even thought about that in the midst of the scramble, or afterwards which was more of a slip."

"Yes my Lord, but it was four years before Lord Mark showed up and Galen's plot was discovered - so it would not have been such an obvious slip at the time."

"True enough General, but maybe it should be entered into standard procedures for his ImpSec guards in future."

"Already done my Lord. On another point, while I remember - we have had tests done, and there is no possibility of the Emperor having already been replaced by a clone - that same Doctor Weddell you brought into the investigation of Illyan's chip came up with a test, which should be useful in future. It may become part of the pre-investiture preparations in fact."

"Really? Well that's good to know - so even without genetic changes those clones are no threat?"

"That may be true my Lord, but they will still be altered, to help remove future temptation - we'd rather not publicise Wendel's test, unless of course it gave a positive result at some future point."

"Right. That makes sense. While I think of it, may I make one suggestion on the clones alterations?"

"I would welcome it my Lord," though he didn't seem particularly sure of that. Ekaterin smirked, Miles' suggestions were usually clever, but not always helpful.

"We could give them a day to think through and suggest or agree to the type of change - maybe present them with some choices and the sort of level of change we require. Try and put it on a more voluntary basis." Ekaterin smiled and nodded in approval, out of shot of the video pickup. "It might help with countering any future objections on human rights grounds. I don't insist on it, because the security of the empire is of course the paramount consideration - don't mean to step on your toes Guy, just thought it might avoid difficulties later."

"A good suggestion as usual my Lord, I believe we will be able to accommodate that as long as the clones don't hold things up too much reaching a decision."

Ekaterin had pulled a chair over, and now she leaned in and suggested, "Oh, maybe you should offer the same thing to that Bharaputra clone too, so it becomes sort of a group thing?"

Miles smiled in approval and added, "That might help remove him from any plots with respect to Jacksons Whole as well."

"Good thinking my Lady - I hadn't considered that. We were just going to keep his existence a secret. Give him a nondescript identity and keep him away from any public attention."

"That might be a problem if the clones want to stick together. If he's as brilliant as his progenitor and gets involved with Doctor Borgos' work it may not be possible to keep him hidden. We will have to impress upon them the dangers of being known under their real identities, particularly Luigi's clone - the Baron made a lot of enemies. I'm not even sure Mark will be amenable to placing him with Doctor Borgos, but I'll ask at some point - with your agreement of course?"

"Once they are here, Count Vorkosigan, and we have debriefed them, then we'll be in a better position to decide where we should send them."

"Fair enough. Now - can we get back to how Miss Chenko managed to elude your notice for ten years?"

"Yes my Lord. I believe that Haroche, either deliberately or inadvertently made a connection which reached deep into Chenko's psyche and reinforced a link to you that resonated with her childhood issues. She already knew of your real identity when Simon recruited her and..."

"You didn't explain why that was - why would Simon show them to her?"

"No my Lord, she - well it all goes back to how she first came to Simon's attention. You see she was an orphan herself by then - her parents were killed in a decompression accident, though there were doubts about the accident part..."

"Let's come back to that later General, how did she get into my files?"

"Yes my Lord, but the orphan part is crucial - one of her best friends, Emelia Borodin, was one of the babies that came out of those Escobaran replicators your father's project looked after," Miles nodded understanding, and Ekaterin knew the story too, "Both girls were in the same service orphanage - Borodin was almost twenty by then, but still there because she was a little simple. Though Chenko was only twelve years old she took the older girl under her wing."

Ekaterin seemed fascinated, so Miles let the General approach the point in his roundabout route.

"The girl was being bullied by the other children and while Chenko was away from the orphanage, at a lawyers meeting because her uncle was trying to get custody and she was attempting to have that blocked. Well, there was an unfortunate accident, the bullying got out of hand and the older girl drowned."

"What were the carers at the orphanage doing?" Ekaterin asked, in a over-controlled voice, "Did they not know about the bullying?"

"The situation has changed my Lady, Simon saw to that soon after Chenko came to his attention. He and the Emperor made some wide ranging, if discrete controls and improvements - so the conditions have improved my Lady. However the particulars of the Borodin girl were very unusual, and Chenko became obsessed with finding out about the girl's parents and why she had been abandoned. This is where it becomes uncomfortable my Lord, and where your father comes into the issue."

Both Miles and Ekaterin began to feel uneasy about where this was going. Miles tried reaching inside himself for his mother's Betan attitude, or maybe Admiral Naismith's blas√© approach to such things.

Allegre continued, "The girl was one of the embryos sent back by the Escobarans at the end of that war, in those uterine replicators. Chenko found the project documents which named your father as the officer in overall charge of the project, and that he had signed out one of the babies personally."

"Elena," whispered Miles.

"Indeed my Lord. Chenko evidently found this significant and decided that all the other babies, the ones sent to the service orphanages, should have been taken care of more directly by the Admiral."

"She didn't think any of them were his children did she?" Miles demanded.

"No sir! Simon made that very clear to her."

"Wait - when, at what point did she come to Simon's attention?"

"I was just getting to that my Lord."

Miles clamped his mouth shut and nodded for the General to continue.

"She escaped the confines of the orphanage shortly after her friend's death, and after gaining access to the secure files - I'll come back to the files my Lord," he forestalled another interruption, "She went straight to the capital and soon came to Simon's attention. The Regent's outer perimeter had noticed her and informed Simon - she was small for her age and they didn't think she was a serious threat. She was only observing the Regents movements, or more accurately as it transpired, observing the security surrounding Vorkosigan House in preparation for breaking in to confront the Count."

Miles smiled to think of a small girl supposing she could get in, then remembered the secure files she had already accessed and felt a twinge of retrospective alarm. He glanced at Ekaterin, but she seemed engrossed in the General's story, and Miles smiled at her profile.

"Simon sent one of his best men to make the pick up, Lieutenant Haur, a middle aged family man. Even with three other men he barely managed to catch her. One of the men had to be taken to ImpMil with a broken arm and the other two had split lips and bruises. She was a real handful."

"Twelve years old?"

"Yes my Lord, but she had already learned several forms of martial arts and was quite proficient. She used her small size and the guards reluctance to hurt her to full advantage before the man Simon Illyan had sent finally just stunned her."

"Stunned a twelve year old girl?" Ekaterin asked in quiet outrage.

"Yes my Lady, it was that or let her escape, and he had his orders. Also, once her fighting abilities were demonstrated he decided there might be something more sinister going on, and she could be older than she looked. Good decision under the circumstances - not much else he could have done really, short of killing her."

"Killing..!"

"No milady, but that was why he stunned the child. He was fairly sure it wouldn't do her much harm - she clearly had a high level of fitness. The Count was at that time Regent of the empire, and there had already been several attempts on his life. They could not allow her to escape. As I said, his choice was fully justified."

Ekaterin mumbled, "Great hulking brutes... just a little girl... ", but only half heartedly - after all, she was Vor.

"So they got her back to ImpSec, and Simon had her interrogated?" Prompted Miles.

"Yes my Lord, but not under fast-penta - she had a natural allergy, which as you probably know is somewhat more common in spacers."

"What? She's a spacer brat?" Miles returned Ekaterin's glance, and muttered to her, "It's just the usual term, sort of a nick name - not an insult, honest." He smiled, then returned his attention to Allegre, "A spacer - from where, I thought she was Barryaran - wait, she's a service br... orphan, who's?"

"It came out in Simon's interrogation of her, which he conducted personally and as the transcript shows - I'll mark it for your attention my Lord - he coaxed her out quite skilfully. As I said before, both her parents had been killed in a, well a questionable accident - the uncle was suspected to have set it up, although that's never been proven, but it was one reason why she didn't want to be taken back to him. Also a reason why she might have already planned to escape the orphanage, now it was no longer a good hiding place. She had been into secure files before this time - which was how she ended up in a service orphanage at all - she doctored the records and had herself transferred there, under a pseudonym."

"So what's her name?" Miles changed his mind, "Never mind, just get through this General, fast as you can."

"Yes my Lord. Simon had her identity checked, started an investigation into her parents' death and her uncle's control of the family assets - her parents' company is part of one of the larger asteroid mining cooperatives."

Miles whispered, "Those Chenkos?" in recognition of the connection, then waved off Ekaterin's questioning look, he'd explain later.

"When he got to the bottom of the link with the Count and the old replicator project Simon was able to straighten her out. He had the Borodin girls death investigated as well, but it was just an accident - nasty case of bullying and that was part of why he and the Emperor made the appropriate changes, not as any part of a deal with Natasha Chenko, but just because they were made aware of shortcomings in those orphanages."

"But what did she hope to gain from confronting my father?" Miles asked, still puzzled by this.

"She wanted something done about the situation, some sort of revenge or to give some value to her friends death - so that something good would come of it - which it did. Mostly she was angry, but for some reason not at the other kids, who she seemed to understand were just acting out their own fears and loneliness."

Ekaterin looked grim and her eyes were watering up, Miles was feeling something similar.

Allegre continued, "She didn't seem to know what she wanted, except that as head of the replicator project she seemed to think that he should have taken a more personal interest in those children's future well being. Simon said she had a vague idea that as a famous Vor Lord and Regent, though he wasn't at the time the babies were dispersed, she thought he should have personally adopted them, made them his wards like in some old romance."

Miles tried to work out from what had been said just when this might have been - he thought perhaps around the time he'd been trying to get into Sergeant Bothari's service history and hitting a brick wall, even with Commodore Koudelka's own password to the secure console's predecessor, "Some good morals, but how did she get into the secure files? That must have been a real shock to Simon!"

"Indeed it was my Lord."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 **

"So will you come visit her Captain?" pleaded Gione, who as most familiar, had been elected the clones' spokesman.

"I'm not sure I'll be such a distraction, but sure - will you go get Havers for me?"

Gione dashed off, while the other two clones shifted from foot to foot. Werrel stood quietly behind them, smiling indulgently, obviously he didn't consider this a threat to the clones - possibly the reverse; Werrel wouldn't be able to watch out for the clones if he was busy chatting to Miss Chenko.

Havers came along behind Gione, looking decisive, so he had probably been told what it was about, "Are you sure you feel up to this Captain Vorpatril? You don't want to go overdoing it now."

"Yes, Havers, I'm sure. It'll make a nice change - hopefully for both of us."

"Well then, do you want a wheel chair, or can you walk that far? It's about fifteen metres sir."

"Yeah, go for it - just make sure there's a nice comfy chair at the other end eh?" Guido scooted away to make sure of it, and Havers helped Ivan up, got his dressing gown over his arms and tied in front, then helped him up again and walked alongside with a ready arm as Gione led the way and Lew came behind as standby in case Ivan needed additional support. Ivan watched the way they managed to do it all with hardly a word, he thought they worked well together considering their youth.

He rounded the corner and saw Guido outside the door to Natasha's room, waving him on. He did feel like he needed encouragement - this was his longest walk yet, and his legs were shaking, but he glared at Havers when he saw the man's hand hovering close, "I'm all right man," then gritted his teeth and stumped through the door and into the room. He didn't complain when Havers put a strong hand on his back for support as he collapsed into the padded armchair next to Natasha's bed, and heaved a great sigh of relief. Surely this wasn't normal after only five days off his feet?

"Are you all right Captain? The boys told me you had a concussion; I didn't realise you were so badly injured - is my memory playing tricks? I thought you were fit enough ... You flew us back up!"

"Yes, but there was some damage to my neck, or the base of my skull - I collapsed later. It was quite a surprise to me too."

"But when did you get injured? Oh, your suit was damaged wasn't it?"

"Yeah, an explosion messed it up and I got a concussion that turned out worse than we thought - but they've patched me up and I'm getting better now, and you look very well Miss Chenko!" Ivan smiled winningly.

"Just call me Natasha - you aren't one of those old Vor types are you? Lady Alys can be so... proper."

"You know my mother?" asked Ivan, where would they have met?

"We did meet once, but not properly. Naturally I know of her - the Emperor's social organiser after all - until Empress Laisa settled in."

"Um, yes - well, no, I'm not an old Vor like that, and mother's not so stuffy really, though she can be... overpowering at times."

Natahsa smiled sadly, "You must be very proud of her Captain."

"Of Mother?" He paused to consider the idea, "I suppose I am at that," and more quietly, "When I'm not busy trying to avoid her."

She heard and asked innocently, "Why is that Captain?"

"Ah, well she does try to meddle in my er, private life you see. As I said, I'm not one of those old Vor sticks, or the younger ones that act like it - not that she'd want me to be... But she can be a bit overwhelming to any young ladies that she er, finds out about."

"What, she puts them off? Are your young ladies so easily scared, Captain?" She teased.

"Well, to be honest I try not to introduce them to her, what with the Vor thing, I mean she's not as bad these days, but still."

"Meeting the great Lady Alys Vorpatril, almost the Emperor's aunt or godmother, it would be nerve wracking I suppose. She and Lady Vorkosigan," she whistled under her breath, "Cordelia Vorkosigan I mean..."

Ivan muttered, "They're as bad as each other. Different though."

"...I'd think even high Vor ladies, young ones I mean - is there a word for those - like Vor lordlings? Ladylings?"

"Vor buds." Ivan said quietly, this conversation was leading in uncomfortable directions, he wondered how best to redirect it.

"Buds? That's cute. Well, I'd think even they might find your mother quite imposing."

"Imposing, yes, they do. I rather prefer non-Vor ladies though - you may not realise, but the whole Vor thing is a bit limiting, to us I mean," she looked interested, "Yeah, people think it's all very easy for us, you know - well Miss Chenko, oh er, Natasha that is, you aren't Vor so you probably look at us and think we've got it made, right?"

Natasha raised her eyebrows in encouragement.

Ivan had almost forgotten Werrel and the clones because they were quietly staying out of his line of sight, but they were all listening.

"Yeah, it looks alright from the outside, but it's very restrictive - I mean I can't just go off and be a, like a farmer or something on Escobar - even without our history with them. Can't join a mercenary outfit I mean look at Mil... A friend of mine, he tried it."

"I know about Lord, I mean Count Miles Vorkosigan. He's why Captain Kimura came along isn't he?"

"What? Why do you say that? Oh..."

"The Dendarii. Admiral Naismith and that raid where Lord Miles died."

"Indirectly yes, I suppose. Where was I? Oh yeah, so me joining the Dendarii - just not an option, well not unless I was an ImpSec covert operative..."

"Like me?"

"Like you, or..."

"Your friend?"

"Yes. So we aren't free to just do that sort of thing as private individuals - or go into other things like, I don't know, acting? All terrain racing - no, that's a bad example, there's Lord Vorbohn the younger. Well, there's always a scandal, like with young Lady Vortala and her ballet - I mean ballet, what's wrong with that?"

"Boring?"

"I mean socially, they all go and watch it, so it's sort of hypocritical to all be fawning over the top dancers, then disapproving of Ginny isn't it?"

"Why are you arguing with yourself Captain? I mean it's very entertaining, but are you expecting me to disagree?"

"What? I don't know - and that's the thing you see - we don't get to meet a lot of people outside the stuffy Vor circle, specially with mother looking on - I mean, you get brought up all cosseted and walled off from the pro... professional and other classes..." he petered out.

"You think you'd rather meet more normal people? What like the people in this room?"

"Well, yes actually," he looked around at the others, "it's one of the attractions of the service, to some of us anyway, it's a place where we can meet good capable people on a more level playing field," he nodded at Werrel, who looked a bit dubious about the supposedly level playing field.

Natasha responded, "I don't think I'd call anyone in this room ordinary - I'd say we're all fairly unusual in our own way, and not to seem boastful, but above average," she jerked her head up as though she might be expecting some argument about her statement.

Ivan looked around: three clones, one of Baron Luigi Bharaputra, two of Emperor Gregor Vorbara, Natasha, Werrel - a first rate ImpSec professional, and himself - he might be the most average one here, but he wasn't about to admit it!

"So why did you... General Allegre said you demanded we had to come and get all of you out together, how did that come about, 'cos it seemed to me you'd about got yourself out when we arrived. Seemed like we mostly provided the diversion!"

Rowan got the result she'd half expected. She logged the details and tidied everything away again. Kimura waited patiently a few metres away, well back from her work area, with a good view of both doors and the rest of the lab. He seemed very alert lately, whereas he'd managed a sort of relaxed interest before. Probably the difference between a normal level of alertness and being on a knife edge. She wondered how long he could keep that level of attention up - Atkins clearly used drugs to keep his senses constantly and preternaturally acute - she idly estimated the cost of that and thought he had perhaps another year or two before his senses started giving false positives and he lost his livelihood. If he had planned for it he'd get some medical help and have a quiet, if short retirement.

She shook her head sadly and made a hard copy of the results, though doubted she'd need it - they were linked to the Baron's personal medical files now anyway. She nodded to Kimura, "Right Captain, time to go and tell the Baron the bad news."

Kimura stepped ahead of her towards the door, "Anything I need to know Doctor - is he likely to be angry at you?"

Rowan slowed for a couple of steps as she considered but, "No, I think he will understand. There's nothing to be done here now anyway - and he'll just have to decide what he wants to do about it - but unless he really wants to die, then I think we'll be safe."

Kimura didn't look very reassured by that, but the Baron wouldn't be going through these treatments unless he really wanted to stay alive, would he?

Vortigan had made the effort to visit the Komarran flag ship for a dinner, nominally in his honour, though he already knew it was an occasion designed to demand compensation for lost time and money, due to the quarantine after the raid started. He wasn't disappointed, there were complaints aplenty, but none too serious.

The Komarran Commodore tried to intercede for the complainants, after they'd were seated for the meal, "You have to understand Commodore Vortigan, these are men and women of business, and their success is measured in profit and loss - only monetary loss I grant you, not in lives as your own losses have been."

"I understand Commodore Reeves, you are business men with investors to satisfy. I have the admiral and emperor who can be quite critical, you know."

"Of course, of course - and I understand your, I mean our Emperor had a very personal interest in the operation you undertook. I don't begrudge him, but it seems we've been used as a, a smoke screen? You accompanied us to Jackson's Whole as an escort, whereas your mission, as I understand it was already arranged beforehand, to rescue these clones - the Emperor's clones from Baron Bharaputra."

Commodore Vortigan controlled his dismay - how did they know such details? Someone had leaked it: maybe that manager at Bharaputra's main facility, directly or indirectly to someone on Dyne station, and the Komarrans had heard through their commercial contacts.

"I'm afraid I can't discuss the details, even with you Commodore Reeve - you understand?"

"Of course, of course. But you see our position? We have investors and they are ravenous for profit, ravenous Commodore! Personally I can well understand your position - you are a man of honour I am sure, upholding the highest standards of a proud service - and let me offer my most heartfelt condolences for your marine soldiers." He bowed his head theatrically, "Such brave young men, to die on such a planet, far from their loved ones. One feels humbled by such sacrifice," he looked up again, "My fellow captains, and even the investors can not harden their hearts to such tragedy," Vortigan nodded, though his face remained impassive, "But as you so rightly agreed, profit is such a hard and unforgiving master. The heartless Market controls us all - small owner captains like myself - because I have to confide in you Commodore," he looked around, as though there weren't half a dozen fellow guests right at the table in easy hearing distance, "I must confide that we run on such low margins on these short routes that this disruption could mean the difference between profit and loss Commodore! I hope you understand our concern."

A business loss was part of the normal risk of any merchant fleet's operation - surely this buffoon didn't expect to make a profit on every voyage, or every stop on each voyage. Before starting escort duties, years ago, he'd studied the economics of Komarran fleet operations and several specific voyages. The big successes of the past he'd skimmed very briefly - they were a small percentage, and mostly from many decades ago. Naturally each current voyage was analysed by the Barrayaran commerce ministry and the treasury, alert for tax evasion, avoidance and commercial trends. Most of the loss making voyages had came down to poor judgement or timing - cutting edge technology being superseded or perishable cargo going off. Sometimes this was because of unreliable ships, sometimes navigational or other physical problems delaying the voyage, or causing loss of ships or cargo. Loss due to pirate attacks had been more prevalent before the Barrayaran escorts had joined the merchant fleets decades ago. The most recent loss making voyage that had any relation to the their escort ships was the voyage to Quadie space, the Union of Free habitats out past Orient - with that rogue Cetagandan Haut drone creature, the Ba. There had been a stink about the escorts' handling of the affair, despite it getting sorted out by Lord Auditor Vorkosigan - strange how he kept popping up in relation to Vortigan's mission. Reeve was staring at him, waiting for his response - the merchant Commodore must think he'd let his consideration of profit and loss run wild! He pressed the signal button on his wrist com, to alert his adjutant.

"Do you know yet just what effect the lock-down actually had on your profit or loss - I understood that you were not fined at all - if that's not the case then you can, of course submit any fines to the service accounts department for reimbursement," Vortigan tried to look regretful.

Reeve grimaced at the thought of becoming entangled in such Barrayaran bureaucracy, "No, I believe we avoided any unusual Jacksonian charges, but we had anticipated being able to negotiate some new contracts..."

"Again, I understood that your ships were locked down for less than two days, and our stay in orbit was in fact two days longer than officially planned, was it not?"

"Yes, that's true but - and I think my fellow captains will agree?" He looked around and received some obviously pre-arranged nods and affirmative noises from the others at the table, "We had more than the normal delays in communications and transport of trade goods. Such things can of course be delayed in the normal course of events but..."

"There you are then - a normal business risk I believe?" Vortigan smiled as though he'd just cleared up some confusion.

"No - but this was an unusual delay, something quite out of the ordinary!" The other captains nodded in concert, as did a few others at neighbouring tables, some of them trying to drag in the Barrayaran liaison officers present - who resisted any such attempts, according to standing orders.

On all voyages service personnel were to be unfailingly polite unless someone was being dangerously obstructive or otherwise getting in the way of any important service matter, but avoid being drawn into any sort of financial or business discussion where an opinion might cost the service, due to potential liability resulting from their comments.

Vortigan calmly stated, "I'm afraid I don't quite understand you Commodore Reeve; I thought that we were in agreement that the delay was negligible. In fact the delay actually allowed you more time to negotiate and conclude your transactions. What other delays there may have been should be taken up with the Jacksonian authorities, since they would seem to have caused them - apart from that period during the lock down when I myself was unavailable due to those pressing matters of which you seem to be fully aware."

"What? Apply to the Jacksonians for compensation for delays? But, but they'd never - besides it's too late now! How do you propose we should accomplish that - why didn't you suggest it at the time if... Preposterous!" One or two of the other captains were looking nervous at his outburst, and weren't too surprised by Vortigan's response.

"Preposterous Commodore Reeve? For you to apply to the relevant port authority when there are delays that cost you profit? I am no businessman myself, but surely that is a normal procedure - since, as you say it would be more difficult to do so after the fact."

Right on schedule Vortigan's wrist com buzzed and he looked at it theatrically for a moment before continuing, "That is my first officer with some urgent service business, which needs my personal attention I'm afraid."

He dropped his napkin on the table and stood up, bowing to the merchant captains around the table and waving to a couple of the other officers, shaking his head that, no they were not needed and should stay.

He turned back to the Komarran Comodore, "It's unfortunate, but often happens during the passage across a system, when signals catch up with us, you must get such things yourself. If you wish to take up any complaints with the Jacksonians, perhaps our trade liaison department can offer some help," he nodded farewell again to the merchant Commodore and strode away purposefully.

"Well! How could he say such things?" Commodore Reeve complained, "Captains, I ask you - to blame the Jacksonians when his damn raid caused it all? Using us as a, a disguise for it!"

"Told you they'd palm us off with some bullshit," said Captain Hubert, "tell us to fill some bloody forms in. Wouldn't be like that if we had a few Toscane ships with us, I bet."

"We could have had our ships confiscated - you know what the Jacksonians can be like!" Captain Oscott suggested, "We could all have been impounded as sex slaves or something."

"Then count your blessings - or was there hint of regret in there Oscott?" Captain Carter chuckled, "Besides, it didn't seem to me that the Jacksonians were too upset about Bharaputra's death - he'd been causing trouble locally, before we turned up. Financial instability as well."

At the next table Captain Ptarmigen was saying, "Vortigan's all right for a Vor you know - at least he keep us out of it, for the most part. Stuck around and kept his patrol ships on station, didn't abandon us and run for it. If we'd have been here on our own - well, it wouldn't have happened because it was them raided the planet I suppose, but think back a couple of decades, those who were around then," he studiously avoided looking at Reeve, who was young for his fleet command, "Like that Toscane fleet that got home while we were assembling - it got hit by four or five pirate ships and their escort blew the lot away!"

"Military ships against jumped up rogue traders?" Oscott suggested, irritated by Carter's slur.

"Not what I heard," respond Ptarmigen, "I heard it was those Rangers that hit some of the Merilac traders last year, and the Laroubans too, out past Orient. The Toscane fleet made it back with no damage, hardly any delay, and a fifteen percent profit to boot. They sent a few bottles and baubles across to the escort ships when they made orbit over Komarr - but they weren't charged anything for the fighting those Barrayarans did." He looked around at the other captains on his table and noted the Barrayaran officers at the other tables were pretending not to listen, faces blank, though a couple of them had brighter eyes, and one may have had a hint of a smile, "Didn't even charge us for the missiles used or anything. I get annoyed at them sometimes myself, giving us orders and slowing us down at times - but for all that, I know I'll get where I'm headed as long as my maintenance is up to scratch and we don't get caught in a war zone or something - like maybe we could have here, and that was down to them. I'll be having words about that, but they'll be to the point and not a lot of blather about profit we weren't sharp enough to get while we could..."

"Easy for you to say - that cargo is all your own," Hubert pointed out.

"Family money - all the risk is ours too!"

"Or should I say financed by your Barraran father in law?"

"He has invested, this time and before, but less than a third. Besides - you have a new Barrayaran son in law as second mate on your ship this voyage don't you?"

"Only because my usual second mate got sick, besides he needs experience - better he get it on my ship than as a bloody handed marine!"

At this the Barrayaran officers, who had been quite enjoying the show so far, stood up - not quite in unison, but without saying a word they stalked out, leaving a quietened room. Even Hubert looked chagrined at his gaffe.

Rowan entered the Baron's recovery room carefully, with one eye on Atkins, who was looking somewhat frayed. Kimura followed her in and leaned against the wall next to the door as she came straight to the point, "The serum has been tampered with Baron - it's useless. No it's worse than useless, it would have disrupted the cell regeneration and caused you a painful death within a day or so."

"Emanuel," he growled viciously. Then in genuine puzzlement, "Why? I always treated him well!"

"No idea Baron. The important thing now is what to do about it."

"Right. You don't have any more?"

"No, it's very difficult to produce. We only made what was needed."

"Then how quickly can you have another batch of it sent here?"

"Not fast enough is the short answer. You remember when you asked if you would be growing again, at your age?"

"Yes?" Dubiously.

"Well, if the first treatment isn't stabilised in the next twelve to fourteen days then you will begin to experience very uncomfortable and unpredictable growth - your organs will remain healthy, but they'll expand unevenly as some cells reproduce faster than others. This isn't too bad in some areas - reversible or operable, but not so with the bones and the brain I'm afraid. You'd die before we could get a new batch finished and back here."

"How much time? Two weeks, fifteen days?" Rowan nodded. He muttered as he did some mental calculations, "Fast message route through Falkirk's station, just over a day to Escobar. How long to produce the serum?" He demanded.

"About ten days, minimum - probably twelve."

"Then five days to ship it back to here - just under four if I could get a fast ship - buy one and a pilot if I had to. Still two days late at least." He looked at Rowan, "You are going to suggest that I go to Escobar myself for the treatment on-site?"

"It's the only way it can be done - send the message, make the journey and have the treatment there, maybe two to three days while your cells stabilise, before you could go through a wormhole jump, and you still wouldn't be fit enough to withstand high accelerations."

"So. Assuming they still have a sample to start the process?" Rowan nodded, "Then as soon as the message reaches Escobar - if I left in six days, get there just as the serum is finished, recover for two days then come back - I'd still be away for at least twelve days," Rowan nodded. He considered the alternatives, "Could they produce the serum on route to here, bring it with them?"

"Absolutely not! The process would definitely be disrupted by the wormhole jumps, even if the acceleration didn't affect it - but to get the equipment up to orbit and installed on a ship, a suitable ship, would take several days - three at least, at a guess, but - no the cell generation would be disrupted by the effects of a wormhole jump. Absolutely not!"

"That's a definite no then," he quipped sarcastically, "So what you are saying is that I must leave my little empire to run itself for twelve days minimum? Not possible either. Please leave me for a while Doctor - I need to give this some thought. Go and relax for an hour - if I need you before that I'll send someone," he dismissed her and closed his eyes.

She went off to the dining room again with Kimura. The kitchens served some some pretty good coffee, and she needed to calm down a bit - his outburst, or suggestion about trying to get the process done during a wormhole voyage had horrified her sensibilities. Then she'd started wondering just what effects might be possible by doing such research - genetic experimentation during a wormhole jump, how would you control it - most people were essentially unconscious during the actual jump itself, senses firing random swirling images and other sensations, no control over your muscles - only the most basic sphincter control, thank goodness that usually remained! But some electronics continued to work, so automated experimentation should be possible, and some recording. She filed the idea for later thought and asked Kimura what he thought the Baron would decide.

"He can die or he can go to Escobar - what choice is there? He'll go. He just needs to try and organise things so there's a 'little empire' to come back to - and in Jacksons Whole two weeks can be a lifetime, I wouldn't bet on Fell's little empire being under his control by the time he returns. But you'd know more about that than me - you were born here, and you used to work for him."

"Lived in a cosseted little research clinic until we escaped, only one journey outside Fell's control - for a training course on Escobar, cryo revival as it happens."

"Yeah, I knew about that - no other travels?"

"None, until we got away permanently. So my experience of Jacksons Whole isn't very wide Captain. I heard reports of cut-throat power politics, but didn't experience them directly - except for that interlude with your admiral. Even if Baron Fell can find a temporary caretaker to manage it while he's away, the other Houses wouldn't just accept it, and there's no chance, none, that they wouldn't find out. I don't know if he can do it - he might have an existing plan for a similar scenario, like being ill, that can be adapted. If there's already something in position, some way to keep the other Houses at bay, some person he feels he can trust - not through friendship, but maybe through fear or reward... but if someone could do that for him, why would they give it all back later?"

"Yup, that's about what I was thinking. It will be interesting to see how he manages it."

Rowan looked thoughtful and sipped her coffee, and checked the time.

Natasha looked around at the clones and Werrel, and tried to work out the best way to put it in present company, "Well, when I asked for an extraction the response wasn't exactly enthusiastic - so I thought I'd better make it a bit clearer, but I knew it wouldn't be easy," she glanced at Werrel.

He was looking down thoughtfully until he realised he was neglecting his duty and snapped his eyes up and around for a quick threat assessment, no threats were apparent.

Natasha continued, "I didn't think I could get us all outside on any kind of reliable timetable, not without a big distraction. Even if an evacuation flight could get in under the scanners no flyer, much less a shuttle could sit out there waiting, undetected for several hours, and ground transport would have been worse - they'd be on our trail too soon after we left. No, I didn't see how I could get us away without outside help."

"Seemed like you were doing OK, until Loveable Luigi caught up with you."

"That's the point isn't it? If you guys," nodding to Werrel and smiling at Ivan, "hadn't come along when you did..."

"I thought he only turned up because we were there?"

"Probably. But we were only able to get out of the creche and down to the garage because of your attack. With the guards being so distracted I might have got us out in a flyer or a runabout, but I was only able to get away with blowing their security panel just then because they were so distracted fighting you."

"Ah, the security console?" She smiled and nodded, "So you needed us as a diversion, while you made a run for it?"

"We couldn't stay where we were and wait because the Baron had sent guards to execute us, except for Lew, who he wanted for spare parts," Lew swallowed uncomfortably, "I figured there'd be other guards sent when those ones didn't report success - even if the Baron hadn't been en-route."

"Oh yeah - we did see those guards in the creche, the dead ones I mean - er, how did you..?"

She gave him a steely gaze, "I am not a wall flower Captain - I'm a fully trained covert operative," Ivan attempted a placating smile, which looked too nervous to be effective, "and in case you don't understand what that means - I am a trained assassin. Trained and experienced," she glared at him, daring any criticism.

Ivan blinked and nodded respectfully, it wasn't difficult to show respect for that look in her eyes - he had no doubt, considering the evidence that had been left on the floor of the creche - six guards against one small woman and three juvenile clones?

She acknowledged his acceptance with a nod, "The Baron had a whole virtual training program including Barrayaran history, politics and personnel briefings of all the major players - including you and your mother - the Vorkosigans of course, Gregor and Laisa, Simon Illyan and General Allegre. Which was useful. He didn't really want Lew learning any of that stuff, but he had the G's learning assassination techniques including covert infiltration - which was perfect for my purposes once I made some subtle adjustments to the bias. I could keep those hidden because his security software wasn't the best and his personnel training concentrated mostly on the physical side - no real systems experts. I un-biased the Barryaran socio-historical stuff, and the martial arts to include more general training. My versions were much more effective and useful - easier to accept right down to the unconscious, because they weren't so psychotic!"

Werrel looked uncomfortable now, shifting his eyes sideways at the clones and clearly wondering if they were the real threat. He'd obviously be reporting all this well before any of them including Chenko got anywhere near the Emperor, oh yeah!

Ivan was looking thoughtful too.

She continued, "The guard captain didn't even realise - which was probably the Baron's paranoia in action. They thought the kids were just dummies kept around for some client and the Baron's future transplant, like those other poor kids before he evacuated them off planet - I couldn't find out where the new facility was Captain."

"What? Oh, we'll probably get onto that later - we've got enough to keep us busy for now don't you think?"

"I suppose - but all those kids, it's just sick!" In fact it made her feel ill, or maybe she was just getting tired.

Ivan looked confused, trying to reconcile it with the scary look of a minute earlier, "You all got out though."

"Right up until Luigi caught up with us. Then we were toast until you guys arrived," she smiled warmly at him, "Thanks by the way, did I say that at the time, I don't remember."

"Well, thanks yourself! Wasn't it you and Lew," nodding to the clone, "who did the honours? I was out of it but Hammond said it wasn't him and with Kimura and Crozier down." he turned to the clone, "was it you Lew?"

Lew looked nervous, as though wondering if his admission would affect their position, "well, not at the end."

There were confused looks all around. Natasha sought clarification, "But who else?" She looked at Guido questioningly. He shook his head, equally puzzled.

Lew admitted, "I had to stop firing because the Baron had that Barrayaran Lieutenant, Crozier?" Ivan nodded, "held up in front, so I was trying to move to the side for a better aim, when Captain Kimura shifted a bit and fired his plasma arc, and it must have hit him just right - it blew the Baron up anyway."

"So - hang on, didn't anyone debrief you?" asked Ivan.

"No. Were they supposed to?" Lew asked innocently.

Werrel spoke up, "When he was checking the arrangements sir, the Commodore complain... He told me he had orders not to interrogate the clones, and we have orders to leave that to the experts back at HQ sir, if you remember?"

"Oh, yeah there was something about that, but that would be the Gregor clones," he looked apologetically at the two of them, "Guido, Gione - Lew wasn't mentioned to me," he looked questioningly at Werrel who shook his head, "so we could question Lew - but I believe it'd be better to wait until we get back home. I'm certainly too tired to do it!"

"These boys are under my protection Captain. No one's going to mess with them without my agreement", Natasha stated, then with extra emphasis, "are we clear?"

"Hey!" Ivan held up placating hands, "We're all just trying to get through this best we can!"

Her neck ached. She frowned but allowed herself to be reassured, let her head drop back and spoke emotionally, "Just 'cos someone doesn't have friends or parents or influence doesn't mean it's OK to push them around you know. People think that if you're an orphan you have no rights, treat you like dirt," a dry sob got out and Ivan looked alarmed. She spoke more softly, "I swore I'd stop that ever happening again. Not on my watch."

Then she looked up and deep into Ivan's eyes, "If you let anything bad happen to any of them I'll see you gutted and dressed. Feed you to pigs - I read about that once, maybe I'll do it while you're still alive," she glared at him, "Don't you cross me on this Captain or you'll never get another nights sleep waiting for the knife to bite."

Werrel had his hand on his heavy stunner, loosened in his holster, and the clones were pressed back against the wall, scared, but not sure who of.

Ivan held his hands up again, as if in surrender, "Look Miss Chenko, Natasha, I think you've got the wrong idea! We're all on the same side, honest - unless someone's been lying to me, and I don't think Gregor would use me like that. Either way I promise you I'll - look, I can't really say I'd go against Gregor, and you probably wouldn't believe me if I did, right?"

She gave him a death's head grin and a single slow nod.

"Yeah, well - look, to be honest they did say we shouldn't let you escape alive..." he talked faster to try and get ahead of her adverse reaction, "I mean, not let Bharaputra take you off somewhere and put his scheme into effect - I know that sounds bad, but you know we have a history of civil wars that cost thousands of lives, so it's our sworn duty to prevent that even if a few innocent people die because of it," he waved his hands again to disperse that scenario, "But Gregor specifically ordered us to make every effort to keep you alive - Gione and Guido I mean, and you Natasha - he really is trying to do the right thing here.

"Look, it's like with Miles and Mark OK?" Ivan looked at her expectantly.

She raised her eyebrows, "Go on."

"Almost straight away Miles thought Mark, who's a clone you know?" He glanced at the boys but they still looked confused, "Well he was created for a Komarran terrorist substitution plot, and it damn near succeeded!" Ivan's voice rose in evident personal recollection, "But Miles knew almost at once that Mark was his brother, and that Cordelia would expect him to look after Mark even if he was as emotionally twisted as a pretzel," he paused for a breath.

"Right! And Gregor was brought up by Cordelia you know? With most of her ideas about what's right and wrong - though maybe not the sexual... I mean he just wouldn't do anything bad to you. Not if you aren't a threat to the empire that is. Threats to the empire trump everything, obviously."

He took another breath and let it out slowly, releasing some tension, "Phew! Look - just don't do that OK? Like I said, we're all friends here! Now I've got a headache."

Havers popped his head around the door - he'd probably been listening for a while, as the door hadn't been shut, "Are you alright sir?"


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Captain Navarr came to collect them from the dining room, just as they were finishing a sandwich.

When they got to the Baron's room he dismissed the security captain and had Atkins shut the door and stand with his back to it.

They waited while Baron Fell finished making some notes on a small com screen resting in his lap. He looked up and fixed Rowan with an unsettling stare. "Did you expect something like this to happen, Doctor Durona?"

His hooded eyes seemed to pierce her, and she shifted her weight, unsettled by his gaze, "What do you mean?"

"You seemed to suggest it was time I retired, when we spoke some days ago, a few hours before the raid - you asked if I wasn't tired of the power plays amongst the different Houses, remember?"

"I said something of the sort - making conversation with a patient, just idle chatter - I couldn't very well talk about your children, or crocheting place mats for the dinner table!" She felt uncomfortably on the defensive, "It was what came to mind after explaining what had happened with Lilly and the rest of us, after escaping this place. After living in freedom for a few years this place is like visiting hell! Of course I thought about getting away again, getting home to my clinic. Life instead of death!"

"Death?" The Baron whispered.

"Yes! Everything here is about death - Bharaputra and his sick little business with those rich ghouls; the other Houses all manoeuvring for advantage, never working together for a better future like any proper planet tries to. Other planets might fail most of the time, but they do at least try!"

"So you did not deliberately bring a useless serum - something that passed tests but would never have had any lasting effect?" He kept staring at her.

She unconsciously sensed Atkins and Kimura watching tensely but had no real attention to spare outside the conversation with Baron Fell, "It was fully effective when I arrived. The tests it just failed were the some ones it passed earlier. Emanuel must have swapped the syringes at some point. Kruger should be able to confirm that - the liquid even looks different if you get the light to shine through it directly, but you can't tell without looking closely, or Kruger would have noticed."

The Baron spat out, "Kruger's dead."

"What! Why? I didn't think there was anything..."

"Weak heart. The stunner beam overloaded his pacemaker's control circuit..."

"Pacemaker? But why couldn't they revive him?"

"I had the bodies moved to another room. The medics checked me over first, so it was nearly an hour - dead and rotted by then. His replacement heart is still growing, no use now. It's a shame: he showed real promise, though maybe not sharp enough, considering. Back to the point Doctor Durona - so what do I believe? I have no one capable of checking your claims independently - the other medics are supportive that the treatment so far is helping my body recover and I certainly feel healthier... but is the final treatment going to do what you say, and did the previous one really leave me in a state of uncontrolled cell growth, with such a short deadline? Can you suggest any way that I can be sure of either of those details Doctor?"

Rowan forced herself to think calmly of the options. There weren't many, "I can do some tests - one of your medical technicians should be able to follow the process. You could draft a doctor in from elsewhere perhaps?" Fell shook his head, rejecting that idea as too risky, "Well then - if your technician watched me do the tests and agreed the results, that takes care of the growth reaction, but you'd just have to take my word it won't just curb itself spontaneously. As for the final treatment, to bring about stabilisation - why would I lie? If it hadn't worked you'd have known soon enough. I expect you'd send an assassin if you found we'd cheated you. I know you trusted Lilly, and she trained us all. Surely that's why you contacted us in the first place? And I do not lend myself to deliberate assassination Baron, not for any price."

"Perhaps your new process never really worked? You hoped the Barryarans would protect you?"

"Nonsense!" She stated, insulted, "It has been endorsed by the Escobaran medical research society! On real planets they have controls over medicine Baron, not like here where the unscrupulous can do whatever they choose. To whom ever they have the power to control! Escobar has a free press and widespread medical insurance - our hard won reputation would be worthless if we attempted such fraud! Why would we bother? You aren't even paying us for the treatment - your deal is with the Barrayrans."

"Yes, and what are their aims? But, no I've thought that through - they'd have no reason to go to such trouble to target me, and the Commodore didn't strike me as a subtle man, nor did Captain Vorpatril. I know something of their Emperor, subtlety yes, but reason? Emanuel's family though - no it all leads towards Bharaputra, reaching out from the grave to drag me after him. Well, you almost convince me Doctor - but as you so astutely point out, this is not Escobar - and as you say, anything goes. So how am I to decide whether to put myself in your power so far from my own power base?"

Kimura suggested, "Ask for diplomatic rights from the Escobaran government and hire independent doctors to oversee the process, make their own tests?" He shrugged, "Might slow things down though."

The Baron shifted his attention to the mercenary captain and considered the suggestion. He came to a conclusion, "If it turned out that you were deliberately poisoning me, or whatever the medical term is, then there might be consequences you'd rather avoid Doctor, so how confident are you of your new treatment, and that it could be prepared in time to save me - if I do return with you to Escobar?"

Rowan swallowed, it wasn't just her own life she was risking, in bringing Fell's problems home to roost. She took a breath before answering, "Our trials have been positive in all cases but one, where there was a pre-existing cancer. I already checked for that and you are clear. If we can get back in the next fourteen days, and if you can get a message through to the clinic within two days from now - and I am assuming they still have enough genetic material from your sample, and I know that they did when I left - they'd have to neglect other work, and there would be a charge for that..." The look she got from Fell over that comment made her drop the issue, perhaps they could take that up later, "There is no absolute guarantee because of the delay right now, but from previous trials it should, and I only say should be successful. There should not be any significant damage if you get there in time. Realistically, that's as definite as I can be. If you get there late, or if the sample material isn't available - we should be able to reduce the growth, and there are some therapies to minimise the effects of excess growth. You'd be uncomfortable, maybe in pain for weeks or months before it could be brought under control and the improvements - you'd never feel quite this good, but still - probably ten years or so before cell senescence resumed."

The Baron eyed her with respect, for standing up to him and insisting on the provisos. He considered for a few more seconds, but knew he really had no choice now - he had to trust her, "Very well Doctor. While I finalise my own preparations you will perform your most convincing test or tests - whatever you can manage in three more hours in the lab - two of my technicians will watch and report. Make your way there, they'll join you before you shortly. Do you have any possessions you need packing? I can have someone do that for you, same for you Captain - unless you want to do the packing - the Doctor will be well guarded and you will leave your stunner here now."

Atkins already had his own stunner out before Kimura could even check, let alone draw his. He used two fingers to remove the weapon from his holster and place it on the bedside table, before showing the Doctor out and following her down the hall to towards the labs, "So Doc, do you want me around, or should I pack our things?"

"I don't have much, nothing irreplaceable, but once you see me to the lab you might as well pack them and your own gear - there's..." They rounded the corner and saw the guards through the glass doors, still blocking entry to the medical section, "I should be safe enough - so long as they want me safe anyway. Yes, go and pack and then come and join me - it won't take you long to pack I think?"

"About two minutes for me, so yeah - I'll do that once you're there," nodding ahead to the doorway, the guards were just letting a technician through and he waited by the lab door as they approached, they both recognised him from earlier, Rowan greeted him, "Doctor Leverson? Are you recovered from the stun already?" She hadn't expected that, had thought one of the technicians might stand in, but this was better - at least he'd be able to follow the testing process properly. They heard footsteps behind and turned to see another medic approaching.

Leverson answered, "They gave me Synergine and I lay down for half an hour before the Baron woke me. Feel a bit weary and maybe a little lingering shock from the surprise of it all - but I'll be fine. They already told me about Kruger - what a waste!" He took a calming breath, "So you are going to repeat the test on the Beta serum stabiliser, is that correct?"

Rowan confirmed it as they walked into the lab and over to the same bench she'd used earlier. The other medic joined them and Leverson introduced him.

"Right then, let's get started!" She asked Leverson, "Is there anything I can do to help, or would you rather prepare everything yourself? Probably the latter, otherwise it won't be a proper test will it?"

She explained the process and Leverson had the other medic gather the necessary chemicals and equipment, while he asked a few questions about the expected reactions and their meaning.

Kimura watched the initial preparations before leaving to gather their belongings, and contact the patrol ship to make sure they would be prepared to leave soon, on a fast run to Escobar along with two guests - he anticipated Atkin's presence. He hoped that the Baron would be able to get the initial request through that would set the clinic into motion, preparing the new batch of serum ready for their arrival; and that he'd be able to clear their exit and their path through the intervening systems.

"Tell me about the Countess - Cordelia Vorkosigan that is," Natasha seemed embarrassed by her garbled delivery.

Ivan thought the heightened colour suited her complexion, maybe he could tell a few of his mildly risk√© stories and bring that colour back again. What about aunt Cordelia, anything there? There had to be, something mildly sexual - well there was that dinner party - Oh yeah!

After the tension of the first visit he'd retreated to recover his equilibrium. He thought he understood now - there were some parallels with Lord Mark's touchiness and irritability about parents and being manipulated. Being a woman of course she would externalise it more, be protective of other orphans, the clones included, and since she'd been living as a covert agent, and on Jacksons Whole - well, naturally she was paranoid. Nothing personal about it, she just suspected everyone at the moment.

He'd visited twice since then, smoothed her ruffled feathers and got a reasonable balance - a vulnerable invalid's limp, but always be sure to leave before he got tired and weak. Manly injured hero. Keep the conversation light and throw in a few interesting anecdotes, mention that he'd visited Earth and Cetaganda, even met the Cetagandan Emperor, Flecher Giaja himself! He thought she'd shown an appropriate, if subdued level of admiration. Yes, he thought she was all calmed down now, he'd soon have her purring and they could be friends. Maybe more?

He smiled, "Aunt Cordelia? Well, what can I say - sure she's impressive as hell: everyone knows about the Vordarian thing, though some people think it was a story got up by uncle Aral - I'm sure it was not. I've seen old Koudelka's sword stick and been present when she's put Vor admirals in their place and it's a sight to behold, let me tell you - just as long as she's pointed away from you it can be very entertaining. Scary though."

Natasha smiled in response, "She sounds formidable."

"Oh, she can be, and very direct," how to steer it that dinner party? "I've heard some stories, but I don't want to say too much, she's family after all. I did hear, and from two reliable sources, about what happened after the dinner party - you said you'd read Miles' files didn't you, so you probably know all about that fiasco?"

"A dinner party fiasco? When was that?"

"About eleven years ago? How old are the kids, let's see - little Aral Alexander is about nine and a half, so it must have been eleven years ago now - when Count Dono got confirmed, did you hear about that?"

"Dono? Which family?"

"Vorrutyer," Ivan grinned blindingly, he was going to enjoy telling this - in retrospect it was very funny, and he had saved the day, braving stunner fire and vibro knife, bringing the cavalry over the rise in the nick of time. He'd best leave out some of the irrelevant details though, like his prior relationship with Lady Donna before the sex change. Hey, maybe he could get Natasha to blush again. Sometimes life could be good!

The Baron seemed to have everything well organised until they reached the jump station, where the presence of several patrol ships meant they had to allow the station commander aboard.

Being a patrol ship Rascal didn't have much room or many comforts and the only private meeting place was the captain's tiny day cabin. Kimura showed the station commander to the cabin, then stood guard outside.

There was little room, and Kimberly, the station commander, shifted uneasily in his seat. He looked searchingly at Baron Fell, "So Georish?"

"It's true James. I'm leaving, so if you want a ticket out I hope your've brought your fare with you."

"What's this?" asked Reynard sharply, "I though he was here to give us clearance!"

"He is - please relax Captain Reynard, James is one of my most trusted subordinates - perhaps even a friend?" he suggested to Kimberly.

"I have always thought so Georish, even from before you took over. We've supported each other - you know I've never had designs on the top job - too much backstabbing and pressure for me! Give me a nice simple management job with a few perks and a convenient escape route when it all turns to shit - speaking of which, you're sure there's no way to hang on to it?"

"Would you want to come back here after giving your enemies two weeks to prepare for your return?"

"Maybe you're right. It was a good run though!"

"You have your readies, and the codes?"

The man nodded agreement, "All sorted, these eight years and more - checked and kept up to date, scrambled trails and burn circuits. Checked them two days ago, once I got wind you were ill after that ruckus on the planet. Thought Luigi might take over, till I heard he was dead. It took a while, but that filtered through once the situation stabilised. You could have let me know, Georish," he seemed disappointed at the perceived lack of trust.

"Had other things going on Jim. Didn't think I'd have to leave, even a day ago, but Luigi got to one of my medics and he tried to poison me. Screwed the treatment my Escobaran doctor brought with her, so now I have to grab what I can and run - just like you."

"So this is really it? No going back, you're sure?"

"Sure. No way either of us would get through a restructuring, and no way it won't happen within days of my exit being confirmed."

"They'll suspect a trap for a day or two - you've set the bombs on Fell station?"

"What?" asked Reynard.

"Relax Captain," soothed the Baron, "they're only software bombs - with a few small circuit charges, nothing fatal to the station or any people on it, but they'll have enough to distract them from us for a day or two - plenty of time for us to get away without any close pursuit. I'll accept your thanks for that later."

"I thought your departure was all arranged, to be amicable, without any trouble."

"So it is, but we aren't a monolithic democracy or a monarchy Captain. We have to take care of our own backs here, no hard and fast rules once the power starts to shift. Now Captain, if you'll allow Commander Kimberly to send some messages to the jump station we'll get clearance and be on our way - I assume you can find some snug corner to wedge the Commander into?"

"He's coming with us then?"

"He's our key to the gate, so to speak. Even with me on board there'd be questions, and a path for messages that might hold us up. Rest assured Captain Reynard, I have a plan, long prepared, and with my friend's help we will make our way to Escobar unmolested."

Reynard grudgingly gave his orders and a crewman came to escort Kimberly to the coms shack. After the door shut again, leaving the Barrayaran Captain and the Jacksonian Baron alone the Captain asked, "Are you sure you trust him alone - he could just as easily have patched things through from here you know?"

"He could, but he'd have felt less trusted, having to reveal something of his override codes in our presence."

"But my coms officer will..."

"Wait a moment, and agree."

The Captain looked unhappy, but the bridge com channel buzzed before he could request clarification, he answered it, "Yes?"

"Ekert on coms. Sir, there's a Jacksonian Commander here requesting unsupervised use of external coms."

"Yes Lieutenant, hold for a second," he muted the connection and queries the Baron, "You're sure we can trust him - what if he sends a message to the other houses or stations, or one of your ships?"

"We'd be no worse off at this point - but if he comes through there'll be no trouble, and we'll know we can trust him. In fact, he'll then be more committed to our cause."

The Captain frowned before reactivating the connection, "Set the targeting dish for the station and lock down the circuits Lieutenant, then leave him alone to send his messages. The Commander is to be allowed full communications with the station - confirm."

"Target coms for unrestricted traffic to the jump station only, leave the shack for er," a pause and some muttered words, "Five minutes sir?"

The captain glanced at the Baron and received a nod, answered the Lieutenant, "Confirm, five minutes. But you will monitor for any internal coms or retargeting of the dish. Put scanners on alert too - I want to know the moment there's any movement, long or short range, understood?"

"Yes sir, monitor internal, long and short on alert, Ekert out."

"You run a tight ship Captain - I am reassured." the Baron soothed.

"I on the other hand, am not reassured - and won't be until we're out of this damn system!" Reynard confided uncomfortably.

"I hear that a lot lately Captain. Perhaps I'll understand it better once I spend some time on Escobar - have you visited it?"

"Not downside. We aren't the most popular of people on Escobar."

Fell smirked, "Are you saying they hold grudges?"

"Well, I suppose I can understand, even though we lost a lot more men than they did."

"Poor winners?"

Reynard laughed, "Yeah - they're ungrateful like that."

Vortigan was on the bridge when the coms indicator flashed.

"Coded signal from Rascal sir - your eyes only," the coms officer explained.

"Log it and send it through."

Vortigan accepted the message, checked the identification tags were correct and activated it.

Reynard came on - naturally it was an audio visual communication - more expensive and cumbersome, but also more secure. Text was easier to decipher.

"Commodore, there's been an important development and a major change of plans," Vortigan swore - when would this damn mission go right? Reynard's image mirrored the Commodore's displeasure, "The Baron's treatment got tampered with. He's needs to be medevacked to Escobar urgently and so I need to deviate from my planned route home. The timetable won't allow me to wait for your confirmation sir, so I'm going to be making a fast run to Escobar to drop him, then return via Sergyar and Komarr as soon as possible afterwards - I estimate I'll be about three days behind you. I'll have to leave Doctor Durona to complete the Baron's treatment, but I'll ask Captain Kimura to come along for debriefing as planned. Please send any updated instructions via the embassy on Escobar. Reynard out."

Well, that would set the cat amongst the pigeons in Jacksonian space! Two Barons gone in less than a week! What would that do to the local dynamics? Probably nothing good, but at least he'd find out at safe distance!

Nothing much he could do about it - but were there any instructions he should send to Reynard? Not his problem any more - he'd forward the signal, re-encrypted for ImpSec Komarr and leave them to decide. He felt well rid of it - Baron Fell would finally fall to earth. Fall from grace. Sod it! The Baron was probably going to be better off away from that cesspit. He'd been a questionable ally, but still seemed better than the rest of those Jacksonian hyenas. He recoded the message, adding Vorpatril and Chenko's medical reports, his latest situation report, finishing with his own more considered comments and forwarded it for immediate transmission through to ImpSec Komarr.

Reynard's assessment was probably sound. There wasn't much the doctor could add to the mission report that couldn't be furnished by Captains Reynard and Kimura anyway. God, Vortigan thought, he'd be glad of his month's leave when he got home. Spend some time with Sasha, Darren and little Helena. Maybe he'd put in for a desk job after this. There wasn't much real action that didn't come along with mountains of paperwork by the time you made Commodore. At least at HQ you didn't have to deal with bloody Komarran merchants! Yes, he'd ask Sasha what she thought - he could commute for a few months until the schools broke for the holidays and maybe they'd take a place in Vorbarr Sultana.

All those little fantasies depended on how this mission ended. Despite what he'd said to Captain Vorpatril, he thought it might not be quite the disaster he'd feared at one point. All the clones and that Chenko girl out and recovering, including the Captain. He'd had no choice but to go ahead with the raid even after they'd been detected, or betrayed. Maybe the remaining ImpSec agents in the Whole could get some clarification on exactly how that had happened? He thought of the dead Marines and lost all his optimism again. Damn Bharaputra! He still couldn't bring himself to go and look at the man's clone. Not properly. He'd seen it when he went to see the Emperor's duplicates and check arrangements with the ImpSec men. The clones seemed healthy enough, but it was eerie, rather like living video images except that they were so damn naive! Not his problem, thank God! Just deliver them to whatever fate awaited and file his report.

He tried to leave it at that, but he had starkly conflicting views unsettling him. They were innocent young men, and there seemed no real harm in them. They were also a very real threat to the stability of the empire he was sworn to protect. If the succession was ratified at some point and nothing else went wrong then the empire was safe, but if something bad happened right now there could be succession wars. What if the Emperor died first who was the successor then - the Emperor's natural son by a Komarran wife, or a clone?

Vortigan had been too young and too distant from the capital to be involved in the Vordarian coup, but a similar civil war wasn't impossible if these clones were around and something happened to the real Emperor. Could he trust the clever heads that had put this mission together? Well, not if things went as badly on Barrayar as they had on Jacksons Whole! The difference, he consoled himself, was that the planners were in control of Barrayar as they had not been on Jacksons Whole. Somehow he didn't think he'd be getting much sleep for weeks to come, until this all panned out and those clones were neutralised.

Natasha was trying to pump Ivan on the subject of Mark, the Vorkosigan clone, but he was evasive, so she tried another tack.

"Tell me more about Lord Mark's wife - she seems to have her head screwed on."

"Kareen? Well, yeah, I suppose so. She's settled Mark down some. He almost seems human at times y'know?"

"Ivan!" she warned teasingly.

"Well, he can be nasty sometimes - I still have trouble with small spaces! Even that combat armour!"

"Kareen?" she said sickly sweet.

"OK, OK! Well you know she's Drou's daughter - and I know you've read her file, avidly," he teased back. She smiled sarcastically.

Things were much freer when the clones were off doing their lessons, catching up on a more standard education - kept busy by the Commodore's assigned liaison, under Werrel and Teller's eagle eyes.

Ivan recited, "Kareen, youngest daughter of Drou and Kou, Admiral Koudelka, retired. You know all that side of it, so her and Mark?" she nodded, "Right, well they met around the time of Miles' cryo revival, actually before Mark went off to retrieve Miles and got the Durona's out as well," another nod, "Afterwards Kareen and Mark got very close on Beta Colony - I already told you about that, as revealed at the famous dinner party - then the whole butter bug enterprise, which I backed," he polished his nails smugly, "Well, it probably wouldn't have gone as smoothly without her sales expertise. She is something to behold; the first real shareholders meeting went well anyway, but later I got roped into a meeting with those southern farmers and you would not believe the difference!"

Natasha smiled indulgently and tried to project appreciative interest. Ivan grinned on cue and continued, "Mark tried to choreograph the event, and even I knew it wouldn't go according to his plan! I was still at HQ and Miles sent me down there because he was still trying to project disinterest. Mark thought Enrique would win them with the science. It didn't work worth a damn - he fawned over describing the bugs, and because he'd somehow decided to use the basic yuk-bug as the starting point - I expected Mark, or at least Martya to catch anything like that, but Enrique has some sort of perverse genius for slipping his idiocy past the most carful screening!" he smiled at her, quite enjoying the tale himself, "Anyway, he tried to explain, while Mark stood in the wings chewing his nails, as some of the farmers made for the exits. Martya dragged Enrique off while Kareen waltzed onto the stage and said, 'Please don't leave now gentlemen! That was just the start of the story, like putting down the fertiliser - and that always smells bad doesn't it?' and they just sort of stood there with there mouths open like a herd of cows - hell there were even a few women too, it just doesn't seem to matter, they just open their mouths and ears and drink it all in! Wish I could do that - to the wom... We had to allocate extra shares before we got rid of all the farmers! I just could not believe it - she's like a secret weapon!"

Natasha smirked. Wished he had that effect on women did he? Lazy bugger. "So she's good at sales - but is she a decent person, I mean the way you talk about Lord Mark sometimes I have to wonder at her taste!"

"You and everyone else, except maybe aunt Cordelia, who seems to see the good in everyone - until she doesn't, then watch out!"

"Right! So back to Lady Cordelia and Lord Mark..."

The first thing they did when they got through the jump point was send the tight beam message. The whole route was controlled by House Fell, so for him to demand that ships wait on the other side until the answering message returned all the way from Escobar, though unusual, must be obeyed. The stations and ships might ask questions back and forth, but only within each system, unless a string of incoming ships managed to ferry messages through - which was unlikely. By the time message traffic started getting back to Jacksons Whole again, there'd be no danger of anyone catching them up. It only needed to buy them one days grace, before they were too far ahead for any pursuit to catch them.

Reynard kept Rascal at the ship's full cruising speed - not emergency flank speed. Still, they'd be in Escobar orbit one hundred and fifteen hours after leaving Jackson's Whole, and the Baron at the clinic a few hours later.

If their message got through on schedule then the serum should be half way to completion by then, if not then the Baron would die.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Natasha was sitting by Ivan's bed when he woke up the next day.

"You drool very nicely, Captain."

"Erp? Sorry, what? Did I over sleep?

"Not at all. I was awake and I've been allowed out of bed, so here I am!" she smiled, "I thought I'd surprise you."

"Very nice, but I'll er, need to brush my teeth and visit the bathroom. Where's Havers? Usually he helps me - no, actually I'll be all right now!" He preempted her offer of help, so she held out his robe... and he nearly fell over when she moved it slowly further away as he reached.

He nearly snapped at her, until she apologised and distracted him with a rare smile. He started to say something, but thought better of it and went to the bathroom.

Once Ivan had got himself tidied up, and changed into his undress greens for only the second time since she'd met him, they sat down and shared breakfast served by a hovering Havers, on a tiny sick bay table.

Once they were finished, and Havers had taken the dirty plates away, Ivan had to ask, "How come you're up and about already? I mean it took me three days to learn to walk without Havers support!"

"Hm, well I didn't have that inner ear infection they told me you had, so my balance wasn't affected. Same with nerve damage, regrowth has that effect, as I know from previous experience. Then there's the genetic modifications," she was watched his face for some reaction.

"I haven't had... Oh, you mean you? What modifications?" Ivan asked with some fascination.

Natasha couldn't decide if the fascination was simple uncritical curiosity or - did he think she'd had some sexually enhancing modifications? Hm, how could she best work that out? She decided she'd work it out later and just told him straight off, "I'm a spacer brat - born in the asteroid belt, went down to Vorbarr Sultana for school and never made it back until after I joined ImpSec," she saw the Light dawning in his eyes, waited until she was satisfied that there wasn't any disgust before clarifying, "Yeah, so my muscle cells don't atrophy as quickly, or bones weaken, and my sense of balance and spacial awareness is pretty unshakeable too. It's a development that originally came out of the Quaddie project, if that means anything?"

"The Quaddies, yeah, I passed through and docked at their two main stations during my last voyage. Miles had a case there about ten years ago - he's an Imperial Auditor, did I mention that?"

"I know about him being an Imperial Auditor - it's public knowledge out there, if you bother to keep up on Barrayaran politics and wot not, which I do, but not any specific cases, which aren't public knowledge - except that he was involved in the replacement of the ImpSec chiefs, Simon Illyan and Haroch?"

"Oh that, yeah, me too."

"You too what?" She asked intently.

Ivan looked flustered, "I can't really talk about it, but I assisted him to some extent."

"Assisted? But you aren't ImpSec are you, and I'd think any enquiries would have to involve internal investigations, deep inside ImpSec itself - what's your security clearance anyway Captain?" Then a Light dawned in her eyes and, "Oh, but they put you in charge of this mission and," a slight hesitation for editing out a name, "I heard you had an order giving you the Emperor's voice - like a case specific... Or are you the ninth Auditor - surely you'd have said?" She waited in anticipation.

"Ninth? No... God No! It was just an imperial order of authority over matters directly concerning the apprehension and welfare of the Gregor clones, Guido and Gione, though not by name of course, their names I mean."

"But in the specific matter of the clones you speak with the Emperor's Voice, correct?" She fixed him with her most intent Look again.

Ivan shivered at some thought, but replied, "Maybe theoretically, but really it was just there to make things go smoother with me being a lower rank than the Commodore. It's a rank I aspire to, but I'm not quite there yet," he flashed a reassuring smile.

She felt a growing uncertainty about the situation. Had she got the clones out of one bad place only to lead them somewhere... Well it'd be hard for it to be worse, but she'd promised, herself anyway, that she'd save them - take them to a new and better life. Not lead them into prison or worse! She battened down the rising anger and stayed firmly focused on his eyes, lowered her voice, "Lord Vorpatril..."

"Hm?" he responded somewhat nervously.

She almost had to bite it out, her jaw was so tense, "You told me that they would be safe. You promised, which is the same as giving your word - or technically, the Emperors word, am I correct?"

"What! I think that's a bit of a stretch. I will put it strongly, I mean they're nice kids, but I doubt my word can be taken as His Word."

"Really? Well that is how I will be taking it if anything untoward happens, of course that won't really matter will it?"

"Why? I mean you are a respected ImpSec officer, so - if you think my word's so important, presumably you've given them your word too? Before this all went wrong?"

She stood up, unclenched her jaw and carefully enunciated, "But I am not Vor, am I?" She turned to leave, then turned back and said, "They will have to get to them over my dead body, so My word at least would not, technically, be foresworn."

She spun on her heel and marched out.

Ivan watched in shock, until she was out of earshot then muttered, "Bloody hyperactive dwarves - bane of my life."

As Rascal neared the second to last jump point they received a reply from the Durona clinic on Escobar. Captain Reynard invited the Baron and Rowan into his day cabin to decipher it. The message confirmed their instructions were being followed and that the item would be ready in another eight days.

"Oh! They must have started it straight away and waited to be sure it's taken before they confirmed, which makes sense - there shouldn't be any chance of failure now, so we'll be in time Baron!"

"Glad to hear that. Captain Reynard, can we send the follow up message, requesting 'more information' and a delayed response, with my code attached," the captain invited him to use his com-console and the Baron came around the desk and entered some characters quickly, "As I mentioned, it's a time sensitive code," he smiled and returned to his own seat, "That may delay the message ships another day or two, and we should be through to Escobar before that last ship returns. It's the only thing between us and Escobar now."

Eight hours later they followed the Jacksonian message ship through the wormhole and emerged into the last of the uninhabited star systems on the route from Jacksons Whole to Escobar. It was a short distance to the next jump point and five hours later they winked into existence near their destination. Within an hour the Jacksonian message ship was hailing them requesting updated instructions - if the Baron's ship was here now, could the message ship make the return journey without waiting for the reply to the last message?

The Baron requested that they stay until he had reached the surface and clarified if there would be any other urgent messages for them to carry back.

"I'll keep them waiting for another day, but before they get too restless I'll send them on their way - not before you've left though, eh Captain?" He winked at Reynard.

The Captain blinked in surprise at the Baron's levity, "Ah, yes, that would be appreciated Baron - very thoughtful of you."

"Least I can do Captain. Thank you for your help and hospitality, and please thank your imperial master for me. I find that I am beginning to look forward to a relaxing retirement. How odd."

Emperor Gregor Vorbarra and General Allegre were already seated at the coffee table in the Imperial Security chief's office, deep inside ImpSec headquarters.

"Any problems with Pol?" Miles asked as Gregor waved him to a seat. It looked like they'd had some coffee already. Miles checked the time on his wrist-com again, but he wasn't late.

Gregor noted the movement and reassured him, "We've just been going over some of the options with respect to the clones, and where to find the finance from. The security personnel will be provided by ImpSec, but the clones will be housed at my personal expense, along with daily allowances."

"Oh? I'd have thought that a separate annual budget would be the way to go - not that I've given it a lot of consideration, but it would be..."

"Too easy to trace and require an annual review by accountants or the counts themselves. Probably not a good idea, but we can split it off at a later date if the clones turn out to be unexceptionable," Gregor explained, "The Bharaputra clone particularly is best kept off the books, and my personal budget is my own affair."

Miles nodded agreement as he sat,"Then how may I be of service, Sire?"

"The fleet reached Komarr, and the merchant Commodore," Gregor glanced at a note, "Reeve, has already sent two separate complaints, via the departments of Trade and Defence. The _Kanzian_ will make Barrayar orbit late this afternoon so Ivan and Miss Chenko are due to land this evening, both of them have recovered well, but Ivan sent a message ahead to warn me that she's becoming somewhat paranoid about the future of her clones. It seems I must defend my actions and my honour as her imperial master."

Miles waited for the punch line.

"I need you to meet them at Tanery Base Shuttleport and bring them here in one of ImpSec's armoured air cars. She already knows about you, as mentioned previously, so she knows that you are a friend and an Imperial Auditor - you can speak with my Voice." The General shifted uncomfortably, clearly he thought it a questionable move, "You will bring them directly here for a private interview with me."

Ah, so that was why the General was so uncomfortable, four relatively untrusted people in a room with Gregor - Miles agreed with the General, "I wouldn't recommend that Sire - she may be ImpSec, but she's been working at Bharaputra's for a couple of years, what if she was turned? What if one of the clones is set to replace you - which would be the basic plot scenario. Get you alone, kill you and somehow take your place, or just confuse everyone! At least let the General have them debriefed with fast-penta before you go in a room with them - that's basic security, surely Chenko wouldn't expect anything less?"

"I don't know - Ivan was pretty definite. I don't want to start by breaking their trust."

"What, the clones?" Miles was surprised until he thought back to Mark. He'd tried to avoid any such betrayal and nearly got himself killed on the Thames barrier, "Explain it first then, and let her sit in - do it one after the other - would she trust Ivan to mind the others?"

"She might - he reported that she's angry with him, but they were getting on before that, so she might come around - let me think about that. I'll let you know before they reach Tanery."

General Allegre relaxed, and smiled at Miles, "you'll be taking a couple of your own men?"

"If it's one of those huge armoured things?" the general nodded, "Then yes, Pym and Roic, maybe one other - those things have plenty of room in back, so two in back, one in front - you're sending a driver?"

"And an ImpSec guard," the General confirmed, "to support Lieutenant Teller and Sergeants Werrel and Hutton. That should still leave enough room."

"If you have the driver and four men, then I'll only need two, with Ivan there as well."

"Two to one, yes that should work," Allegre nodded firmly.

"Very well then Miles, I think you'd better get going," Gregor stood, the others got to their feet and he shook hands with Miles, wished him luck and the General led him to the door - it looked like he and Gregor had more business to transact before they broke for lunch.

A guard showed Miles to the ground floor - although he'd worked for ImpSec himself for over ten years, they'd prefer not to have an Imperial Auditor wandering loose, unless he was doing an official inspection.

The air car driver was already waiting for him in the lobby. Miles told him to follow on to Vorkosigan House in ninety minutes. As he came out he saw that Pym had been alerted and was waiting by Miles' own car, the canopy already open. Miles climbed in and eased back into the wide rear seat of the huge armoured ground car. It was a relic from the regency years which still came in useful, providing an historic weight to his Auditorial arrival.

As they headed to the gate he gave Pym his instructions, "Take us back to Vorkosigan House, then you and Roic will prepare for an afternoon's air car ride. ImpSec is flying us down to Tanery Base to meet Ivan Vorpatril and four er, guests and escort them back to the the city. We'll have an ImpSec driver and one guard with us, three more guards will already be with Ivan, but bring stunners just in case. It's confidential, you know the drill."

Pym acknowledged the instructions as the old car glided heavily out of the gates and Miles let his head relax back, wondering what surprise Ivan was going to spring on him. It'd all be very innocent on Ivan's part, no doubt, but he felt sure there'd be something unexpected.

Doctor Rowan Durona showed the Baron into a guest apartment in a wing of the clinic's main building. It had it's own small lounge, kitchen, bathroom and some closet space. Atkins brought the Baron's valise in with his own small knapsack of belongings, checking the outer door and lock as he passed. Entering the lounge, he eyed the small two seat sofa with disappointment.

Rowan noticed his look, "There's a separate room along the corridor and we'll give you the code for the outer door, and a manual key - you can take the mattress off the single in the other room if you prefer."

Atkins blinked in surprise, then the realisation dawned that she was born a Jacksonian and understood his responsibilities. He nodded, "Thanks Doctor," his voice quiet and gravelly. He stood to one side while they went over the Baron's timetable for treatment and Rowan promised to show them the labs when she took further tissue samples the next day, after they'd settled in.

After the door was shut the Baron asked for a threat assessment and Atkins answered promptly, "Armoured glass, solid walls, probably reinforced. Not many outsiders from the look of it, maybe none nearby - I hope. These Durona clones make it easy to spot outsiders anyway. I'll make it clear I want to know who to expect. Seems like they understand security, maybe because of the research secrets?"

"Probably. How about attack from outside, overt attack."

"It's different from on station - less likelihood of attack ships, more threat from snipers or close up assassins. So, the glass and the walls. They look solid, reinforced, but keep away from windows anyway. Keep the blinds down and don't go outside - definitely not without warning me in advance. I'll stay with you any time you go outside this room. Let me check that outer door again, see about blocking it at night. I might sleep in the corridor until I get things straight."

"Right. Meals delivered here? Or cook from fresh ingredients?"

"Some fresh would be good. There's no point suspecting the Duronas too much cos they could poison you whatever I do - I'm no doctor to check whatever they inject you with, pills or whatever. Get Rowan to arrange for a blind delivery from the common kitchen? Same for her and some others as for us, and split it here?"

"We could invite them to join us?"

"I wouldn't be able to watch more than one or two, but I could reheat mine later."

"Good, that's settled then. We'll mention it at breakfast if she joins or invites us, or the tour - whenever we see her next, but soon. You'll be all right watching me alone for the next ten days or so?"

"No problem, as long as this place is secure, so I get a few hours sleep now and then."

"Good. We'll discuss the future after that. Take on some assistants if you want to stay with me, or a replacement if not. I've already transferred your combat and travelling bonuses, and an additional bonus to cover the next six months. We'll discuss a raise or a severance package depending what you decide," The Baron eyed the wiry man complacently, "In case I haven't mentioned it before - you have been an exceptional employee and I am pleased with your service. If we get through the next ten days intact I will make sure your retirement fund is adequate to provide for a comfortable old age. I know you don't expect to live much longer than my own extended lifespan, assuming this treatment works as advertised. Actually, I'll ask them about that - there must be a small but potentially lucrative market if they could adapt their life extension treatment for people in your position."

Atkins nodded in appreciation. Even if it was just reassurance to help keep him loyal, it showed better than average consideration. Maybe he'd ask Doctor Rowan himself.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Miles stood by the big black ImpSec air car as the personnel shuttle landed a few hundred metres away, within the cordoned off area in the military side of Tanery Base Shuttleport.

Letting the clones walk that distance may be a slight security risk, but it would let him inspect them while they approached. He dismissed a brief flashback of the assassination attempt on his alter ego when he was at the London shuttle port fifteen years earlier.

Each of the clones had an ImpSec guard escorting him. Miles squinted, it looked like the taller Bharaputra clone had a sergeant as escort and the lieutenant and the other sergeant escorted the two Gregor clones. Ivan was, predictably chatting to the female agent, Natasha Chenko - by far the smallest of the group. She had shorter hair than the picture he'd seen, and although the reports had said she'd been seriously burned, the treatment must have been successful because she was keeping up alright - in fact it was Ivan who seemed to be out of breath when they arrived.

Miles stepped forward a few paces and bowed slightly to Chenko, "Welcome home Captain Chenko. On behalf of my Imperial Master, and myself, congratulations on a difficult and successful operation," he eyed Ivan, "You too Captain Vorpatril... Are you alright Ivan, you look pale."

"I'm fine er, my Lord Auditor?"

"Yeah, well Gregor wanted the welcome to be official but confidential, so I got the job," he shifted his attention to the Gregor clones, "Welcome gentlemen," and a nod for the Bharabutra clone, "Shall we get going? The Emperor wants to see you all personally, but there are a few security checks before that can happen, so we'll be going to ImpSec HQ first - you've seen it before Captain Chenko?"

"Yes," nervously, "What are the checks?"

"A quick genetic identity check for all of you, and samples from the clones for their files," he allowed a little embarrassment to show, just to be diplomatic about it, "And there will be a fast-penta session for the clones," and to them, "It's just to check for any subconscious suggestions that Baron Bharaputra may have planted - which I'm sure you'd like to know about yourselves before they cause any of us difficulties, yes?"

"Do you know I'm allergic to fast-penta my Lord Auditor?" Chenko asked.

"Yes - there'll be a different interview for your, more of a psych profile," and to the clones, "It shouldn't take more than a couple of hours including some rest afterwards - if you haven't had it before it's, well it's a bit embarrassing, but it doesn't hurt..."

"I'd like to be there for their interviews, as their guardian," Natasha stated firmly.

Miles nodded to her, "I expected that - though it will slow things a bit if you want each done in sequence?" she nodded, "Very well, I'll confirm that on the way then - if you'd all like to get in please?" he gestured into the rear compartment. Natasha hung back deliberately, so Ivan went first nodding and greeting Roic and Pym by name, introducing them both once everyone was inside. The ImpSec men sat back and faded into the background.

The air car rose up and the driver initiated the automatic traffic control program, taking a passive role until they were away from the shuttle port. Even ImpSec went automatic in shuttle port airspace, though they could override in an emergency.

"Are you both recovered then? You seem very well Miss Chenko."

"Yes, thank you Lord Auditor Vorkosigan, the ship's medical team was very good, though I understand Doctor Durona was also consulted - though she was gone by the time I had recovered enough to thank her," to Ivan, "Remind me later if you would Captain, if I can send it through ImpSec's channels it'll get there faster."

"Right. I'm still a bit wobbly myself Miles, thanks for asking - I got blown up you know, but I had my full armour on, so I just got a cracked skull and a bad concussion."

"So I heard. Count yourself lucky. Baron Bharaputra had a worse day," he smiled crookedly at Lew, "or none of you would have made it back from what Commodore Vortigan's preliminary report said. We'll want to go through the whole thing step by step later. I don't know if the Commodore had chance to tell you before you disembarked, but we now know that Baron Fell has reached Escobar, to finish his anti-ageing treatment."

"Oh? That's good!" Natasha smiled, "He was quite useful getting me onto Bharabutra's staff, setting up my legend and so on."

"Ah - I did wonder if that might have been the case."

"You met him too didn't you my Lord Audi..."

"Just call me Miles please - I feel like we are erstwhile colleagues, as there was some overlap of our times in covert ops," and to the clones, "You may call me Count Vorkosigan boys, or just Count, OK?"

The clones nodded and Lew muttered, "Yes Count Vorkosigan."

"Sorry Miss Chenko, I..."

"Then please call me Natasha, Count, Miles."

"I interrupted you: you were saying, had I met Georish Stauber, yes?" she nodded, "I did, but only as my alter ego, Admiral Naismith," he bowed in his seat.

"Of the Dendarii, yes I met Captain Kimura very briefly, in fact he saved my life, or possibly all our lives."

"Yes, 'rescues a speciality' was our unofficial motto you know?"

"Could have been worse," she teased, "look at the Jaksonians various House mottos!"

"Yes, they do tend to boil down to 'We'll do anything for money' don't they?" he smiled crookedly, "I want to mention something now, as unofficially as I can be in my auditorial hat," Natasha looked suspicious, and even Miles best friendly uncle smile, practiced on Mark and Kareen's kids didn't seem to reassure her. Too bad, "You should have been warned already," a glance at Ivan, who nodded, "about the genetic alterations we'll have to insist upon..."

"I wanted to go over that er, Miles, because I'm not happy about the risk factor of an alteration, and they," waving to the clones, "are not experienced enough yet to make a properly informed decision - I mean..."

Miles held his hands up to interrupt, "Please let me finish?" Natasha frowned, but nodded acquiescence. "We have to insist on a method of preventing any possibility of a future substitution or secession attempt - which might even be forced on one of you, if no action is taken now. I think you understand the importance of avoiding that from the empire's side Miss Chenko, and it's not all one sided - some other man like Bharaputra might come along, and you would surely prefer to remove yourselves," nodding to the clones, "from any involvement?"

The young men looked confused, turning to Natasha for guidance.

She paused for thought before responding, "It's tough, but the idea of changing their identity isn't the problem - it's the medical risks that concern me - I'm not qualified to judge them and I don't know who's judgement to trust."

"Well, Emperor Gregor.."

"Is personally concerned and so a conflict..."

"If I might finish?" She waved him on, "I asked Simon Illyan about it - I believe that you'd trust his judgement?"

"Not necessarily, not on this, if he thought the empire was at stake he'd be capable of sacrificing us all,"

"Well, yes, which is why I think he made the suggestion," she nodded for him to explain, "he thought that Professor Enrique Borgos might be an acceptable choice."

"Borgos? The Escobaran that works for your brother? I'm not sure he..."

"No, Natasha," Ivan interrupted, "he's right! The man's a liability where - er, I mean he's not someone you'd pick if you wanted to do anything underhand - he'd never be able to fool anyone, but he's very sharp on genetic stuff."

"Genetic stuff? But he works on bugs, I mean.."

"Well, I think he'd be able to spot anything out of line, unless it's very obscure."

"I believe that was Simon's thought too Natasha, and I've been told that the basic idea is very simple - not for me and you perhaps, but for a geneticist it shouldn't be difficult to er, audit the procedure."

"And aunt Cordelia thinks very highly of him," Ivan put in, "technically anyway."

Lew said shyly, "I'd like to meet him Tash, his work looks interesting," Lew, more than the others, had been reading through the ships library for most of the trip home. There'd been little else to do when not visiting Natasha. Naturally Mark's history and later business enterprises had been a subject of interest.

"Yes Lew, but..." she paused as she had a thought, "Maybe if we could let the process run on one of you first, to be sure it worked?" She looked at Miles questioningly.

"That's not ideal - it'll take longer... but if you're willing to stay in isolation until the whole thing's done, then I think it might be acceptable."

Natasha looked as though she thought she'd just given in too easily, and was trying to work out what she might have missed.

Ivan smiled around at everyone, relieved that the pressure was off again, "Seems reasonable Natasha. I know it'll be a bind to be cooped up another, what - a week or two?"

Miles prevaricated, "Approximately - I'd have to check with the experts. It's not what was planned, but we should be able to sort it out."

"Well then kids," Natasha said to the clones, "I think it's for the best," and to Miles, "subject to my confirmation and agreement after I meet this Professor Borgos."

Miles nodded, "Agreed, subject to Gregor's agreement of course. Now, what I was going to suggest is that the boys might like to choose the sort of physical changes they want - there are definite guidelines, but the main thing is that they must all be sufficiently different from their progenitor, and not like anyone else - no one rich, powerful or famous anyway. I hope you'll agree that's reasonable?"

After a brief consideration Natasha agreed.

"Captain Chenko, I understand that we have you to thank for deprogramming of the clones?" Natasha barely nodded, hardly daring to breathe, "I also understand that you are considering early retirement from my service?" Gregor prompted.

They were in a private office somewhere in the palace - she'd been led there by a Vorbarra armsman, and didn't know the building well enough to be sure - hell, she didn't care too much - she just wanted to get this over with and get back to the boys. Naturally there was a guard in the room - she doubted that she'd ever be fully trusted again, after her time at Bharaputra's. She dragged her focus back to the Emperor.

"I would like you to delay your resignation, at least for a few months, until our young friends have settled into their new accommodation - and if you find them comfortable, perhaps you'd consider completing your twenty years service there? You only have a few months after all..."

She smiled, genuinely. Of course it could be a bluff, but she thought that she'd notice something if it was - maybe not specifically, but a feeling or intuition. So she took a quick breath, "That would be most welcome sire."

"Very good! There'll be a few days delay while we organise the genetic treatments and... There was something else I was hoping you'd help me with Captain."

"Sire..?"

"Nothing directly to do with the clones: but it is another interview - a public one I'm afraid. Ever since Laisa got me to open up to them, the press has been gaining more ground. I limit it somewhat - keep our personal lives private of course, but this mess at Jacksons Whole - not your actions Captain Chenko, but the late Baron's, or more accurately both of them - Baron Fell's departure has drawn attention too."

Natasha nodded, just to show she was following.

"The press are very persistent in wanting some details of the raid..."

Natasha squeaked, "What!" then moderated her tone, "How do they know details..."

"The Komarrans. So the press already knew we'd attacked Bharaputra, if not why. We knew the fact that a raid took place would get out of course, but... We never imagined that the Jacksonians would try to embarrass us diplomatically by publishing full details of it! Ha! We're not painted in such a bad light actually - except for the number of casualties. However, they also published the names of all the officers concerned, including yours, so the press have some specific targets for their 'requests' - demands might be more accurate. I should have... never mind, too late now. So I am asking if you would agree to appear on a chat show tomorrow night?"

"A, a chat show? Me?"

"Ivan Vorpatril will be with you, though I'm not sure that's any reassurance."

"Ivan? Er, didn't he um, make a bit of a mess of the last one?"

"Yes, but it was him or Commodore Vortigan, and he'd be in a more difficult position as overall commander of the operation - it would have opened up too many uncomfortable lines of questioning to public view - not to mention undermining the review board hearings. Unfortunately the channel's producers are very independently minded, and somewhat republican - not that you'd be able to tell from their programming. But it seems that they are adamant in requiring two of the top people, and we can't seem to interest them in Hammond."

"But my identity... Oh, the Jacksonians?"

"Yes. They no doubt took some pleasure in destroying your future as a covert operative. So it's lucky that you decided to retire from that arena," Gregor smiled ironically.

"But I don't think I'd be any good in front of a camera, Sire."

"Nonsense, you'll be very photogenic. And perhaps you could help keep Ivan from saying anything too embarrassing, eh?"

The Later with Lana titles faded to reveal the host Svetlana Shanina, seated in an armchair, smiling indulgently as Ivan and Natasha were shown to their seats on the set. Natasha in another armchair on Lana's left and Ivan on a small sofa, across a table to the right.

Lana started her introduction looking somewhat grim, an expression which did not really suit her glitzy socialite image, "Thanks to the dubious reports released by the Jacksonians we are all aware that a recent raid took place on Baron Bharaputra's secret cloning laboratory, and this resulted in the Baron's death and the release of several clones. Two of these were illegally grown copies of our own Emperor Gregor Vobarra," her expression cleared and she smiled at the camera, "We have with us the two Barrayarans most closely involved in the recent raid, newly promoted Commodore Ivan Vorpatril and agent Natasha Chenko. Congratulations Commodore and welcome home!

"Thank you Lanna," Ivan responded with a slightly hesitant smile, "I'm very glad to be home."

"Yes, I understand that you were both very seriously injured during the raid," turning to Natasha, "Miss Chenko - I heard that you were very badly burned?"

Natasha looked uncomfortable, "I did get burnt a bit, yes, but it wasn't that serious really."

Ivan's eyes widened slightly.

Lana raised her eyebrows, "My information is that you had extensive burns from the neck down, necessitating a week in a full emersion regeneration tank!"

Natasha frowned, "I don't remember much. I was unconscious a lot of the time."

"Miss Chanko is being modest," Ivan objected, "She did have extensive plasma burns inflicted by the Baron himself when she attacked his combat armour barehanded!"

Lana feigned shock, "Barehanded! Did you witness it Commodore? Can you please describe the events leading up to this?"

Ivan hesitated, "Not personally - I'd suffered some damage myself and wasn't very mobile at the time."

"The Captain had already suffered a severe concussion from an explosion," Natasha informed the host, "during earlier close combat against a number of the Baron's troops."

"So you were already injured Commodore, but you still came to her rescue! How romantic," their host smiled sweetly, "You do seem to have a penchant for rescuing damsels in distress Commodore."

"Miss Chenko was doing very well already, and I didn't..."

"We have another of your rescued ladies here tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it for Rebecca Toscane!"

Rebecca strolled onto the set and sat on the little sofa next to Ivan, who shifted uncomfortably.

Lana smiled in welcome, "Miss Toscane, it seems the Commodore has been up to his old tricks, rescuing another lady from violent attackers."

Ivan objected, "I really didn't do that much, I mean that my men were, were marvellous and an honour to lead - although without Miss Chenko and er, we'd have had more casualties, maybe not got away at all..."

"Then I thank you Miss Chenko," Rebecca nodded graciously, "for you aid in returning the Commodore to us all, and to me in particular."

Natasha looked confused, and irritated, "I assure you Ma'am that the Commodore was responsible for rescuing us all in the end - since he piloted us up to orbit despite having a severe concussion and a fractured skull."

"Oh yes! He is so brave isn't he? My hero," she beamed at Ivan, "you are glad to be home aren't you Commodore, Ivan my dear?"

Ivan was turning red, "I'm glad to be home, yes - but Miss Toscane... I don't wish to seem churlish but you must understand that I was just doing my duty. When those pirates attacked the convoy I..."

"More pirates? And you already injured!"

"What? No! I mean before, when I was escorting your convoy, it was my..."

Lana smiled smugly, allowing them to entertain her viewers, whilst Natasha was bemused.

"You can't forget it either can you my dear Captain? Commodore. Even with all that's happened, all that was said, still it swamps more recent actions!"

"Wait, what? No you don't understand - I told you I was just doing my duty, I..."

"In support of Miss Chenko, and for all Barrayar, of course you were, my love!"

Rebecca draped her arm around him and moved in for a kiss.

Ivan jumped up, stepped back from the sofa, and out from behind the coffee table.

Rebecca lurched up after him and he scooted around behind Natasha's chair.

Natasha looked over her shoulder at him, still half amused at his discomfort, "What is this Ivan, are you engaged? You should have said something."

Rebecca stopped moving, "What does she mean? Is she trying to come between us my darling, a vicious little harpy?" she moved towards Natasha's chair, "I'll show you little one, not to get between a Komarran woman and her man!"

Rebecca raised her right arm and made a wide open handed swing at Natasha's face.

Natasha blocked the hand easily, knocking it downwards and putting Rebecca off balance. The Komarran woman saw that she would topple towards the little woman so she raised both hands claw-like, with long sharp nails aimed at Natasha's eyes.

It took a split second's delay for Natasha to realise the woman still seriously thought she could get near her. The delay left her too little time for a more measured decision and she rose up, getting above and inside the outstretched arms, catching Rebecca's nose with the top of her forehead, knocking the Komarran woman backwards, her legs catching on the coffee table behind.

Rebecca clutched her face screeching as she fell backwards, "She attacked me! Eek," the little table collapsed, leaving her sitting in a tangle of broken wood, "Ivan, protect me from her! She's mad! A mad Barrayaran harpy - help me Ivan!"

Ivan looked down at her pityingly, "You attacked her you idiot - did you think she was defenceless, just because she's er," he hesitated a moment, "compact? She's, she's, she's magnificent is what she is! A regular lioness! One of Barrayar's best in fact, I'm no real hero, but she is a heroine!"

Natasha blushed, "Ivan! What's got into you?"

"Some sense at last!" Ivan looked down at Rebecca, "Please try to understand that I was only ever doing my duty, trying to be an officer and a gentleman. If you got any other impression I apologise. But also understand that I am not in any way enamoured of you - in fact I wish to ask Miss Chenko for her hand in marriage - if she'll have me!"

He knelt in front of Natasha, "You should get that forehead seen to milady, you might want to mop the blood before it drips on your blouse," he retrieved a clean handkerchief from his pocket and offered it up to her.

Natasha stepped away from Rebecca, who stared at Ivan in horror. Lana grinned in appreciation of her own stage management.

"Please get up Ivan," Natasha asked, "Commodore, get up."

Ivan shuffled round on his knee to stay facing her, "Not until you give me an answer - and make it affirmative please?"

Natasha smiled a little, "Why Commodore, what will you do if I say 'No?'"

Ivan grinned, "Keep asking until you say yes dammit!"

"Well, that could be embarrassing! For me too," her cheek dimpled.

"But what about Me?" asked Rebecca plaintively.

"Yes Commodore. I accept your proposal," Natasha spoke clearly for the camera, and turning to Rebecca, "You see, Miss Toscane, the Commodore is now otherwise engaged - so you will have to cast your hook elsewhere."

" 'Sling you hook', I believe," Ivan corrected.

"Really? Why? Isn't it some ancient fishing term, like casting a line with a hook on the end, for fish to get caught on?"

"Not sure. Why don't we get out of here and discuss it over a bottle of wine - after you get your forehead patched up."

"It's nothing," Natasha claimed, looking at the hostess and the Komarran woman in disdain, "hardly felt it," but she looked around the set decisively, "Yeah let's get outta here."

Ivan scrambled up and took her arm, and weaving between the cameras they heading for the exit, at a fast walk - Ivan's thoughts turned to the inevitable introduction of Natasha to his Mother - Oh God!

One camera panned around and kept them in frame until the studio door closed them off from view.

Rebecca sniffled, "What did I do wrong this time?" she pressed her nose tentatively, "Ow - I think she broke my nose!"

Lana, smiled, "No - just knocked it out of joint I think. So will you return to Komarr now Rebecca?"

Rebecca sniffed again, painfully, "Yes, I will return to a more civilised society. Barrayar looks pretty, but..."

**THE END**


End file.
